


Burn The Shoes & Boil The Rice

by Clara_Watson



Series: Quiet Birds AU [4]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: ! character death !, F/M, THERE IS SMUT IN HERE, We have a threesome in here, a lot of ouchies, and literal almost death, people die!, please understand this i'm sorry!, we're dealing with foyet!, what even are tags anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 39
Words: 100,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27642962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_Watson/pseuds/Clara_Watson
Summary: The wedding is looming in the distance, but Foyet's a thick rain cloud over all of it.*Starts At Foyet's v first episode*~this is part 3, this fic is getting out of hand, but hey, who doesn't love a too involved insert fic~
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader
Series: Quiet Birds AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930975
Comments: 239
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~you know who we haven't hung out with in a while? Spencer Reid.~

Spencer’s sitting cross legged on the couch telling Saskia about the history of Barbie dolls. She’s not really listening, instead she’s carefully splaying out the skirts on her Swan Lake barbie, turning the glittering pink and blue fabric over in her hands. Aaron’s taken his files into the bedroom, working on a case that’s a little too heavy for his desk by the door. 

“Spence, have you eaten?” you ask as you return a couple of books to the bookshelf. 

“I had breakfast at JJ’s,” Spencer says distractedly before going back to his Barbie and Mattel facts.

“Spencie it’s almost dinner,” Saskia responds. You’re not sure when Spence became Spencie but neither of them fought it. “Can he stay for dinner? We’re having hard and soft tacos.”

“Yeah, Spence can stay.” 

“Thanks,” Spencer says with a small smile. 

You’re close to continuing what could have been a conversation but Saskia’s jumping onto the couch beside him and asking if they can have a ‘fact off’ about Swan Lake. They agree nothing about Tchaikovsky, but then Saskia breaks it immediately by telling Spence practically a whole biography of him. You just smile and shake your head.

Aaron stands in the hallway for a moment, like his presence is enough to draw your attention. Okay, yeah, it is. He motions back to the bedroom and you nod, squeezing Spence’s shoulder as you follow Aaron.

Aaron fiddles with his hands, pacing back and forth like he’s trying to figure out what he’s about to say. You move some files from the bed and sit on the mattress. You pull your legs up to sit cross legged and let Aaron think through it. You wonder if it’s anything to do with the job you did with Billy a couple of weeks ago, just because it seemed to upset a couple of higher ups. 

“I know you were doing other things with your life, and working on other cases, but do you remember the Boston Reaper?” he says quietly.

You nod, patting the mattress beside you. “It was one of your first big boy cases, right?” you ask, trying to lighten Aaron’s nervous mood. It doesn’t really work. “Felix was obsessed with it.”

Aaron frowns for a second but then he goes back to clenching his jaw. “The lead detective called me, he wants to meet.”

“Okay,” you say quietly and turn to him. “Is that not okay?”

“I don’t know what Shaunessy wants,” Aaron says, chewing on the soft skin of his thumb. You watch as he stares at the floor, methodically chewing, until you pull his hand away.

“Why’s this eating you up?” you ask quietly.

“I’ve… I, uh, I wrote up a profile. We were pulled from the case before we could write one up, but I did, and the Reaper stopped killing, but I can’t help but wonder if Shaunessy’s calling me because he’s found something new.”

You cup his face, stroking his cheek softly. “That was your job, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I have to leave now if I want to make it before tomorrow, I won’t be back until morning.” He looks so guilty when he says it. You just nod because you totally get it.

“Just keep me updated as to where you are and I won’t mind. I just want to know you’re safe, that’s the deal.” It’s the deal you’ve both made multiple times, especially when your relocation job takes you out for three or four days that aren’t sanctioned by the bureau. 

Aaron nods and leans in, kissing you softly. “Thanks. I’ll make it up to you.”

You shake your head at him because there’s been far too many ‘I’ll make it up to you’s in the last two months. 

“Say bye to Sas and Spence before you go. Spence is staying for dinner.”

He nods and stands, pulling out his duffle bag from under the bed and packs a couple of changes of clothes. 

“I feel like there’s a storm cloud forming,” Aaron mumbles as he stares at the suits in his wardrobe.

“If you need one I can bring you one, you don’t need to pack it.” You stand and press a hand to his lower back, resting your cheek on his shoulder. “Working this job always feels like a storm cloud, you know that as well as anyone.”

“Yeah,” he says exasperated. 

“Do you want me to whip something quick up for dinner or will you get something on the way?”

He closes the wardrobe door and turns, kissing your forehead. “I’ll make some coffee and a sandwich, I can get something if I need it.”

You nod, squeezing him tight. “I’ll go put on the coffee machine.”

Saskia’s head snaps to you angrily when you grab the coffee beans. 

“Is there a case?” she says. You shake your head, filling the coffee machine and turning it on.

“Dad’s just got to follow some stuff up, he’ll be gone for tonight.”

Aaron comes in, dropping his bag by the couch and scritching at Saskia’s hair before joining you in the kitchen.

“Are you gone for tonight tonight or work version of tonight?” she asks judgementally.

“Work version?” Spencer asks, looking between you and Saskia.

“Work version is coming home after everyone else is already awake,” you explain. 

“After eight-thirty,” Saskia corrects. “If Dad’s not home before the school run then he’s gone for a work version of tonight.”

“I don’t know, Saski,” Aaron says apologetically, grabbing a travel mug out of the cupboard and pushing it to you. “But I’ll come say night if I get home before eight thirty.”

Saskia smirks proudly. “He’s said night to me at eight twenty-five,” she tells Spencer. “Which was silly because I was ready to go to school.”

“But it’s the rules,” you add and Saskia nods.

“Hey, Mom, did you know Tchiacovsky skipped his final exam? It took him another five years to graduate because no one wanted to give him his diploma.”

“Guess who won’t skip her final exam,” Aaron responds as he slaps some toppings on his bread and shoves it in a plastic bag.

“I’m not going to university,” Saskia says simply, shaking her head. “Makes people too smart. Plus, I don’t have to go to university.”

“What do you want to do then?” Aaron questions.

“I’m going to get paid to eat hotdogs. Maybe work at a carnival, I could be a fortune teller. Or an acrobat. Or a ballerina, but they start young and my feet don’t go all pointy.”

“I don’t have time to unpack that,” Aaron murmurs, kissing your temple. “As long as you’re the best there is,” Aaron smiles to her as he pops his travel mug open.

“Nuh uh, Mom says as long as you have fun and can pay the bills. Nothing about being the best.” 

You poke your tongue out at Aaron who looks at you like you’ve offended him. He fills his travel mug, closes it again, then kisses you quickly.

“I love you, I’ll call you when I’m halfway there. And when I’m there.”

“Love you too.”

He juggles everything in his hands, kisses Saskia’s hair as he picks up his duffle bag up, tells her good night and then says bye to Spence before leaving.

“What’s he got?” Spencer asks. “Not a case?”

“He’s just meeting up with a detective on an old case,” you smile. “Coffee?”

Spence scrunches up his face and then nods.

“Half the cup of sugar?” you tease and Spencer looks at you like you’re a blessing.

“Can I have a hot cocoa, Mom? Pretty please?” Saskia says, leaning on the back of the couch.

“Sure can.”

****

Spence is passed out on the couch, blanket drawn over him. Saskia is asleep in her room, she’s moved all her blankets and pillows to the floor. Despite having a perfectly good bed she’s decided that the floor is far more comfortable. You can judge her (someone said you couldn’t) but at least not to her face. Emily says that it’s probably just going through a phase.

Dave outed you to the whole team as the person who slept under your bed for weeks because it felt better than the mattress. That one was fun.

Aaron calls you around one, waking you from the fitful not-quite-sleep you were in.

“Hey,” you say, turning to your otherside.

“The Reaper made a deal with Shaunessy,” Aaron says with no greeting. “A deal to stop killing until death do them part.”

“Kind of romantic,” you respond which falls very, very flat.

“Yeah, well, Shaunessy’s dying. He’ll probably be dead by morning, which means the killings will start again.”

“Hey, calm down,” you whisper, sitting up. “We’ll deal with it when we get to it. The guy might be dead.”

“He might not be,” Aaron responds just as quickly. “I’ve got to get Garcia to find the deal from the newspaper. I’ll put the team on unexplained homicides and stabbings, but if it comes up we have to go,” he says.

“I get that,” you whisper. “I’m behind you no matter what happens.”

You listen to him breathe methodically, calming himself down. “Thanks. I’m going to stay at work tonight, put some stuff together, but I’ll come home for breakfast. I want to be back in for when the team show up, I don’t want to miss anything.”

“Yeah. Do you want me to wake Saskia so you can say night?” 

Like you’ve summoned her she’s suddenly hovering in the doorway, hugging Haley’s bear close to her chest. She might be almost eleven but she still looks four in moments like these.

“Can’t sleep?” you ask. Saskia shakes her head as Aaron says “No? I’m driving?” You roll your eyes at the phone. “Want to come say night to Dad?”

She nods, climbing into bed with you. “Night Dad,” she says without taking the phone. “Are you coming home tonight?”

“I’ll be back for breakfast,” Aaron responds.

“Cool,” Saskia says and then she’s moving Aaron’s pillows around and cocooning herself in the blankets.

“Drive safe,” you whisper to Aaron, stroking Saskia’s head.

“Sleep well,” he responds. There’s a couple of moments of silence that you both savour, then you’re switching ‘I love you’s and hanging up. 

“I love him too,” Saskia mumbles into the pillows through a yawn. 

You smile at her before joining her. “I know you do, Sweets.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~as much as I love Roy Colson, I'm sorry fam, I've replaced him with someone new, I hope you like them~

You’re up before Aaron gets home (honestly, something in Aaron’s tone didn’t sound right and you can’t get back to sleep after you wake at four). You’ve moved Spence to Jack’s room because the couch can’t be good for his back and he doesn’t disagree with you. Well, he might, but he was sleep addled and it was too easy to guide him away.

Aaron comes in at 4.45, looking wired as anything, rubbing his thumbs against his index fingers so methodically that you wonder how they haven’t blistered. He doesn’t question why you’re awake, he just collapses onto the couch beside you and puts his head in your lap.

You run your hands through his hair, listening for that tell tale content hum. It doesn’t happen. He just moves his methodical stroking to your legs, like he can’t stop. 

“Aar, why’s this eating you up?” you whisper, tracing your fingers over the shells of his ears lightly. He mumbles something into your thigh that you don’t hear and you tilt his chin away from your leg.

“Is it selfish to say I don’t want you working this case?” Aaron says, watching you in the reflection of the TV. 

“Yes,” you respond softly. “But I hear you, and I’ll keep it in mind.” He nods slowly, pausing his stroking. “You’ll have to fight Saskia for your pillows.” 

He nudges into your leg but doesn’t move. He takes a moment then he asks what time Spencer wakes up and you’re not sure why until he shifts and tugs you lightly until he can wrap himself around you and press his face into the back of your neck. He intertwines his fingers with yours and squeezes softly.

You suppose it’ll have to be enough.

At five thirty he untangles himself and you listen as there’s the quiet ‘Morning, Sas’ as he grabs his clothes and goes to shower. You smile when there’s Sas’s tired and yet excited “you’re home!” which seems to lighten his mood substantially. 

You give Haley a curtesy text that Aaron's acting particularly weird to which she responds simply with 'surprise! Meet Aaron Hotchner!' Which makes you half smile and shake your head. Spence looks like he's come out of a warzone when he wakes up, scrubbing violently at his eyes as he tries to figure out where he is.

"Coffee?" You offer and Spence shakes his head. 

"I'll just have toast if that's okay." Honestly, still waking up Spencer is the politest Spencer. You point him in the direction of the bread as he yawns. 

Aaron's not wrong about wanting to be into work before the team is. He stops for a breath when Haley gets Jack to call Aaron for a simple good morning. It's become a stressed Aaron tradition that he has yet to figure out. But other than that he leaves the house like a hurricane. Saskia sighs dramatically, widening her eyes because she knows rolling them will get her told off. 

It's kind of a dramatic ritual between the two of you. Which Spence unintentionally joins when he blows out his cheeks and says:

"It's going to be a tough day at work, isn't it?" 

You nod which doesn't calm any of Spencer's worries. 

***

It's fine for a couple of days.

Aaron's nervous but he's fine.

That's until you get a sharp and snappy text from JJ (not her being snappy at you, but Aaron's obviously confused or been brash with her) and then Aaron just stands in your doorway. 

"Is this the case you don't want me to work?" you ask, placing your file down.

"Yes," he says with a stiff nod. 

"Okay," you respond, picking the file back up. 

"Can you come?" He asks like a child that's been scolded. 

You think about teasing him with a thinking face but Aaron looks like he's at the end of his rope. Instead you just kick your go bag out from under your desk and stand.

"If you want me working this, promise me you're not going to sideline me. Not unless we both agree on it." 

"Yeah," he says distractedly, tilting his head out of the door. 

"Promise it, Aaron."

He sighs, exasperated, looks out into the hallway and nods. "I promise."

He slaps a file into your chest as he takes his war path. You're only half listening as he gives you a recap of the Reaper and you know most of the facts anyway thanks to Felix. You don't have enough time to fully think through the fact that Felix was probably obsessed because it was Aaron doing the case. Where the fuck their rivalry came from you've got no idea.

There's a gentle hush that falls over the jet as you enter the jet. You look up, expecting someone to say something like you’re wearing your clothes backwards or something. 

"Do you know what this is about?" JJ asks. 

You flash the file under the impression that everyone's read it. 

"We haven't got one of those," Prentiss says softly. 

Not for the first time that day, you frown. Morgan bumps your shoulder as he comes in, taking your bag from you.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“The magic reason we’re going to Boston,” Emily says, the look you give her cutting her off from sounding whimsical. 

“Hey, are you leaving us?” Morgan asks as he sits. Spencer looks up, eyes wide.

“No?” you respond in genuine confusion. 

“Just saw you helpin’ out Shakespeare’s team,” Morgan continues. 

You don’t get a chance to respond, Aaron comes in like he owns the place (he might as well at this point) handing out files and a biography by Alan Carzagati for Reid to go through. He turns to you, looking at you like he’s centering himself and then he starts reciting the Reaper case like it’s gospel.

***

You’re setting up the in the field office when you get the phonecall. 

Catalina Garza.

Felix’s little sister. 

You haven’t spoken to her since the funeral, it’s weird to see her name pop back up on your phone. Every birthday she sends Saskia a card that always says “Dear Saskia, [insert already written birthday message] Love, Auntie Cat” and a fifty dollar note. Sometimes she sends Christmas presents, but it’s mostly generic no-brand bath gels and cheap jewellery. 

“Do you need to get that?” Morgan asks. 

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Five minutes, tops.”

Morgan just nods and shoos you off.

“Cat?” you answer, pulling a door shut as you find a private room.

“I don’t know if you know,” she says, her words running into each other. “But I-I-uh, The Boston Reaper.”

“Cat, slow down,” you say, taking a seat at the table in the centre of the room. “Where are you?”

“This isn’t a copycat, is it?” she becomes far too calm far too quickly. You sigh, rubbing your forehead.

“Hun, this isn’t going to be your big journalistic break. It’s a copycat.”

“My big journalistic break was that fucking book I wrote on the Reaper,” she says distracted, which has you frowning. “The agent here doesn’t look like he’s dealing with a copycat. He’s taking this seriously. And the pipe cleaner too.”

“Are you in Boston?” you ask but you know Cat’s taken you away from her ear, holding the phone to her chest as you listen to her pen scratch at paper. You can hear Aaron talking in the background.

“Yeah, I am,” she responds at last. “Is that Agent Hotchner? Did they bring him back on the case? Look, babe, I have to go.”

“Cat, wait,” but she’s hanging up. You try to call her back but she declines your call the first couple of times then she switches her phone off so you’re just left with a ‘not available’ message every time you dial.

You toss your phone to the table as you come back to the team, grabbing what information you have for the evidence board. 

“Who was that?” Prentiss asks, handing you a wad of blue tac. 

“My sister-in-law,” you mumble, pinning stuff up. Prentiss just nods like that explains everything. It definitely doesn’t. 

“How old is she?”

“Too young to be playing the game she’s playing,” you respond.

***

You’re going through George Foyet’s case when Cat’s phone turns back on. It’s your turn to hang up on her multiple times, and you’re super close to turning off your phone yourself when JJ gets a call. Conversation pauses and you listen to Spence postulate that the book on the Reaper has a distinctly female approach to it (whatever that means) which has you reaching across for the book and grabbing a spare piece of paper. 

A L A N C A R Z A G A T I  
C A T A L I N A G A R Z A

Asshole.

Why did you ever marry into the Garza family.

“Jayje, who was that?” you ask when she hangs up. 

“A reporter, they want to speak to Hotch downstairs,” she responds. “Why?”

“Carzagati?” you ask but you’re already pocketing your phone.

“Yeah.”

Aaron’s halfway to the stairs when you catch up with him. 

“Aar, did you ever meet Alan Carzagati?” you ask, pulling him back lightly as you reach out for his wrist.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure, ‘cause he’s not like… the one who wrote the book, right? You met a woman, right?”

“Yes,” he says, looking at you exasperated. “Her name’s Alannah.”

“Okay, or try Catalina Garza,” you respond, handing him the sheet of paper. “She doesn’t think it’s a copycat.”

“Are you going to scare her off?”

“No,” you respond, but Aaron’s handing you back the sheet of paper.

“We’ll play it safe for now.”

“Aar,” you start to argue but he shakes his head.

“Does she know you’re here?”

“No, I mean she called this morning but she just wanted to know if I knew anything she didn’t let me finish.”

“Let’s keep it that way for now,” he says.

“Aar, I have no ill will towards Cat.”

“She wrote the book on the Reaper. If he’s around, the less he knows about how everyone’s connected with this, the better.” His eyes fall to your engagement ring and you sigh.

“Should’ve gotten me a new chain,” you say and maybe it’s a little bitter. 

“Yeah, should’ve,” he says in the same tone of voice.

You don’t leave reception the entire time. Instead you watch Cat through the tinted glass. You don’t know why you’re surprised to see that she’s older, she’s only five years younger than you. She’s somehow tamed her jet black frizzy-curly hair into two tight braids, something that Saskia’s inherited from the Garza side. She hasn’t muted her wardrobe colours, opting for a full red outfit. 

You don’t miss Felix, but God do you miss Cat. She used to be the best part of your week, until she just stopped turning up about a year after you and Felix got married. Then it was just holidays, then just Christmas (not even Christmas Eve, just Christmas day, and not even for a full day), then, finally, she just never came. And you just never went to her. Same as Aaron and Haley if you think about it. 

When she and Aaron are done talking she leaves in a very Cat-is-fed-up way. The pinnacle of professionalism. Head up, shoulders back, coat swirling behind her like the cape belonging to a Disney Villain. Ever so subtly slipping Aaron the finger as she adjusts her coat.

Yeah, you miss her.

She calls you the moment she’s out of sight. You flash the caller ID at Aaron as he comes in then answer.

“Everything okay?” you ask, raising your eyebrow at Aaron and moving that little bit closer to him even though he’s tightly strung. It’s just close enough that he can hear too.

“That Agent Hotchner is going to be a pain in my ass,” she says. “But he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, I should give him your number. Can I give him your number? Do you even work for the FBI anymore? God, probably not. Look, you’ve probably gotten rid of all of Fick’s stuff, ‘cause God knows I did, but he had a couple of theories on who the Reaper was. If you’ve got time do you think you could look around and scan it to me? Or get your dad to scan it through to the FBI?”

Cat does not breathe, you swear. Aaron just looks at you warningly and you pull a face at him. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” you nod. “Stay out of it and safe, Cat.”

“I’m staying in for the families,” she tells you. “I wrote the book on this asshole, I’m keeping in touch so the families know. There’s something off about them finding out about the Reaper being back through the police.”

“Alan Carzagati is a good pen name,” you tell her, ignoring the rest.

You like to imagine that she smiles on the other end of the phone. “I can make you one if you want, and ID’s.”

“Woah, slow down tiger before you admit something I’ll have to arrest you for.”

“Files please, I want this Bastard off the streets. Also I’ll text you my home number. We should catch up next time you’re in Boston.”

You look at Aaron who’s scored his look straight forward.

“That’d be nice,” you respond. Aaron sighs, almost in relief you’re sure.

“Glad to know you’re better.” And she’s hung up.

“Better?” Aaron asks and you shrug.

“I don’t think I’ve seen her since the funeral. Everyone’s better since then.”

“I’m sorry I snapped at you before,” Aaron says, squeezing your shoulder lightly. The closest thing you’ll get to a hug while on the case.

“I figured you’re on a three strike system.”

“Three strike system?”

“Three strikes and I’m doing whatever Dave tells me not to do, not you, you’re bye bye boss.”

He shakes his head. “I want to catch this guy and go home,” he mutters lowly so no one else around you can hear.

“Then let’s get back up there and figure this bastard out.”

He catches your wrist before you go back into the room, pulling you out of eyesight from the team.

“I didn’t mean what I said before about the chain,” he whispers.

“Yeah, Aar, you did,” you respond, holding his gaze. “It’s fine, I get it, that’s why the chain existed in the first place. I’ll leave the ring in my room tomorrow.”

“Babe,” he says weakly as you pull away from him and rejoin the team.

Dave frowns at you but says nothing. If the team wouldn’t read into it you would have taken the ring off right there and put it into your pocket. But the team would read into it so instead you just busy yourself with the files.

“Where’s Hotch?” Dave asks.

You shrug. “Out there.”

Brilliant way to start a case, really. 

You’re pretty sure this is why they don’t let couples work together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~i don't like messing with canonical characters but Cat's a bit of fun.~  
> ~Mom and Dad are on rocky grounds rn they kind of just stumbled onto some uneven surface and said "well, we gotta deal with this now"~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~I apologise in advance for all the sex jokes, goodness sake they kind of just slipped in there~

There's another crime scene but Aaron keeps you far away from it.

It's not sidelining because he only takes Dave, and you’re left with the rest of the team.

But fuck does it feel like it.

You opt to be the coffee runner because Emily looks like she's going to pass out if she doesn't get fuel into her. 

"You should've said you were here," the lady behind you says and you assume she's talking ,” says someone behind you. You ignore it until they tap your shoulder. “You live in Boston now?” Cat asks.

“No, no,” you respond at two different levels. “I’m, uh, working the case. Trying to find the copycat. I mean, right now I’m getting coffees.”

“Yeah, sources say there was another one.”

“And what sources might they be, Cat?” you respond flatly and she seems to flinch at her own name. 

“Alannah, please, Lana if you’re desperate to shorten it.” 

“You really changed it?” You move out the way for someone who’s impatient to cut the line. Cat nods.

“I don’t want to sound paranoid but I, uh, didn’t want Fick to find me.” She flashes her wallet at you. “Want me to pay?”

“I’m getting seven of them, wouldn’t want to dig into your finances that much.” You watch her for a second as she just looks at the counter. “Hey, Lana, why Alan Cazargati? I mean, Lana has the same letters.”

“So does anal,” Cat says and she laughs at her own humour. “Also, just call me Cat. Feels weird when you call me Lana. Like I’m lying to you.” She pauses, chewing at her bottom lip. That hasn’t changed. “I’ll tell you after you order.”

So you step forward, making double sure that they get Spence’s which has so much coffee it might as well just be coffee flavoured toffee, step out the way and listen as Cat orders a chocolate frappe with double shots of coffee.

“Still can’t stomach warm drinks?” you tease.

“Iced all the way, if someone could get me a coffee icicle I’ll owe them my life.” She crosses her arms as she stands next to you, as though she’s thinking as to whether or not she wants to tell you. “Fick was looking for me, I didn’t want him to find me. He started nosing around Boston and I wasn’t about to give up my book. He’s not looking for a man, so, Alan.”

“Wasn’t looking,” you correct silently. She jumps slightly, looking at you, like she holds a secret you don’t know. “He came looking for you after the funeral, didn’t he?” you say, piecing it together. 

She nods. “You know he’s not dead?”

“Oh, hun, he’s dead,” you say, squeezing her elbow. “Last year. I watched it happen, and I got him cremated. I know it’s not your family’s wishes but--”

She heaves a sigh of relief that looks like it might morph into her being sick. “No, no, good riddance. Thank you. He came looking for me, and you, after the funeral. I tried to keep him distracted until the cops got there, but the cops aren’t about to go looking for one of their own, let alone someone who was murdered. You and Saskia disappeared for a bit and, honestly, thank god. I remember seeing him in the mall and he was losing it. Screaming about how his wife and child betrayed him and I thought, fucking finally.

Then you popped up again. Smaller cases, but that one with the teenagers? He was all over that one. He tried hacking the police station I was reporting at." She shakes her head like it was a commonplace occurrence. “I think Fick liked making people scared. Mom always said he’d give up if we stopped being scared of him. Look him dead in the eye and give him no fear, offer him no mercy, and he’d get bored. I thought about putting that in Night of the Reaper but I remembered that Uncle of yours said patronising killers is a bad idea.”

“Yeah, it is,” you smile. 

“I kind of like living. Hey, is Saskia okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't she be?" 

Cat frowns deeply at you. "Fick always said she was really sick? Heaps of hospital trips, he didn't want to get her more sick. That's why I stopped coming to visit." 

"Cat, Saskia was never sick. She had colic as a baby and, like, pneumonia when she was five, but Felix wasn't around for that." 

"You weren't sick either?" Cat asks it like her whole life leading up to this point has been a lie. That sums up what living with Felix was like.

“Nope,” you respond. 

“I knew my brother was an asshole, but that’s beyond being an asshole.” She rubs your arm and frowns, but the coffee’s arrive and you have to step away from her to collect them. 

Cat swivels on her feet as you come back to say goodbye. 

“Hey, Saskia’s, what, eleven now?” Cat asks, not looking at you.

“Yeah, eleven next month.”

“What does she like? Can I send her something?” She immediately returns to that twelve-year-old Felix introduced you to.

“Once this case is close do you want to come to DC and meet her? I’m sure she’d love to meet you.” 

Cat looks like she’s about to burst into tears as she nods. You put the coffees down, giving her a quick hug. 

“Is it still a copycat?” Cat says into your shoulder and you roll your eyes.

“Until Agent Hotchner says otherwise, yeah, sorry.”

“Can I call you if that changes?”

“Agent Hotchner will call you if it changes,” you say, pulling back from the hug. “To the best of his knowledge all channels go through him.”

“Fine,” she laughs. “I know this is a long reach, but call me if you need anything. I’m sure I’ve still got the notes from when I wrote the book.”

“Yeah,” you smile. You’re interrupted by a phone call from Prentiss. “Look after yourself, Kitty Cat,” you call as you raise the phone to your ear, wedging it between your ear and shoulder. “Can’t hang up on me, I’ll drop the coffees,” you say in greeting.

“Hotch and Rossi are coming back to give the profile,” Emily tells you. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, who would have thought so many people would want coffee at this time of night? Lines were crazy. I’ll be four minutes, tops.”

“What’d you do, count the seconds it took you to get there?” Emily teases.

“Yup,” you respond, deadly serious.

You arrive back at the FBI building as Dave and Aaron come in. Aaron gives you what could have been a smile, his face stretching for a breath. He holds the door open for you, brushing his hand against your shoulder.

“Thank-you, Handsome,” you smile then turn slightly so he can reach your phone. “Can you hang up on Prentiss for me, please? Dave,” you call after him, extending a coffee balanced hand. “Coffee.”

“Thank-you,” he breathes, cupping it and breathing it in like it’s his lifeforce. “I’ll leave you two, go ready the team,” Dave says.

“Take the coffees,” you say quickly before he runs off. “Spence’s is the smaller cup.”

Dave nods and you grab your and Aaron’s cups before he starts down the hall. There’s an awkward silence for a moment, then you scuff your foot against the floor. 

“Cat knows I’m here, she was getting coffee,” you confess. 

“It wasn’t fair of me to keep you from seeing her,” he says, dropping his head. “And asking you to take off your ring wasn’t fair either.” He frowns at your ringless hand, brushing the back of his knuckle over the bare skin. 

“Aar, next time all you have to do is ask. Honest, that’s why I had the chain in the first place. It wasn’t because I was ashamed, it’s because I didn’t want unsubs to know. Okay?” you lower your voice a little, bending so you can look at his downturned face.

He pulls a face at you and nods, scrunching up his nose. “Yeah, okay.”

“Just have to use your big boy words.”

“Don’t talk to me like you talk to Jack,” he scoffs, and yet, he smiles.

“Ha, made you smile.” 

He just shakes his head at you and nudges your shoulder with his, setting you both towards the room where he’s about to give the profile. 

“This isn’t your fault, Aar,” you murmur.

“I had ten years to do something about it.”

“And no evidence you should’ve been doing anything,” you respond. “No point beating yourself up.”

“Says you.”

“I’m being your voice of reason right now, don’t come for me.” You turn your back to the door, making sure he’s looking at you. “Knock ‘em out of the park.”

Morgan grabs you almost immediately, tugging on your elbow as you come into the room. 

“What’s up?” you ask, eyeing off the box of strawberry Hello Pandas in his hand. Every time you’re home long enough to do a comprehensive shop you get them for Saskia’s lunch box, taking a few for yourself to make a little collection of your own. A delicious guilt indulgence.

“You haven’t eaten, I need a favour, and you should know these are extremely hard to find.” He holds them up then snatches them out of your reach. “Nuh uh, favour.”

“What do you need?” you sigh, not looking away from the Hello Pandas like he’ll make them disappear.

“I know Shakespeare has contacts. I need you to get Garcia access.” He’s deadly serious.

“I-I can’t do that,” you respond.

“She can’t find Foyet.”

“And I can’t just get Garcia access, Morgan, that’s not how it works. But you can give me search parameters and five of those pandas and I’ll see what I can do.”

“That better be good enough cause Hotch is already riding our asses.”

“Yeah, I know, and not in the fun way. Five,” you say, clicking your fingers. You think you’ve actually made Derek Morgan short circuit because he takes a minute to respond.

He shakes out a couple of pandas (six of them), hands you five, then takes one like a pill. 

“This is revolting,” Morgan says as he swallows. 

“Wasn’t made for you,” you smile as you squeeze passed him into the room where they’ve got Garcia virtually set up. “What’re you searching for, Garcia?”

“George Foyet, I’m emailing you search parameters.”

“Saint.”

“I really can’t find him.” 

You tap away, searching through the databases you’ve got access to. Pete texts you seconds later.

Text from: P.Wobblystick  
Send me a photo of G.F.

“Garcia can you send me a photo?”

She hums and you forward to Pete.

Text from: P.Wobblystick  
Nothing.

Reply:  
Thanks.

“I’ve got nothing.”

“I’ll get Hotch,” Prentiss sighs.

Morgan chucks you the rest of the box.

“Garcia can’t find George Foyet,” Morgan says the moment Aaron steps into the room.

“I’ve got nothing, Sir,” Garcia says softly and Aaron looks to you. You shake your head.

“What do you mean?” Aaron responds.

“He’s gone. I mean, he’s completely off the grid, and he’s gone.”

“How is that possible?” God, the way Aaron’s tone changes makes you uncomfortable.

“Nine months after he was released from the hospital, uh, quit his job, sold his car, closed his bank accounts, cancelled his credit cards,” Garcia says and you can hear her tapping away at her keyboard. “Cellphone, apartment, everything. He has no paper, thus he has no trail, and I can’t find him ‘cause he’s gone.”

“You think it’s intentional?”

“It’s more than that, like, even dead people stay on the grid for decades. Take it from me, erasing yourself like this, it’s extremely difficult. It takes commitment.”

Difficult, but not impossible, you think. You’d searched for Cat for years after the funeral, she was completely gone. You’d thought that maybe you could have given her that journalistic break she wanted when you were working Dollhouse but she just didn’t exist. You got letters, sure, but there was no way they were sent from Boston. You’d always kept her number in your phone, but it’s been inactive for years. You couldn’t even get someone to trace it.

Obviously she thought the Reaper was interesting enough to dig out that mobile phone. 

You and Aaron come to the same conclusion at the same time. Aaron from listening to Morgan and Emily bounce off each other, and you from just remembering that your sister-in-law wrote the freaking book on the Reaper and interviewed Foyet extensively.

Aaron grabs the business card out his pocket and beckons you with his finger. You jump from the table, following him obediently with a long, dramatic, look back at Emily and Morgan.

Aaron gets one of Foyet’s aliases from Cat, and his address. The only thing she asked was that they wait until the morning to visit him, which Aaron reluctantly agrees to. 

“Have you slept?” you ask him quietly when he hangs up. He’s already texted the team to pack it up for the night and start fresh in the morning. He shakes his head and rubs his temples, eyeing the files littered over his bed.

You sigh, collecting them up and putting them in what looks could be a coherent order.

“It’s easier to sleep when there’s not files all over the bed,” you scold.

He nods, agreeing with you. “I forgot to go to bed,” he admits.

Sleeping in separate rooms does that to people. You have to admit you did the same thing, and that your room doesn’t look any better. Maybe a little worse. Okay, a lot worse, the only reason why it’s sort of clean is you had to find a spot to put your engagement ring that wouldn’t get it lost or forgotten.

“Go get changed,” you say without looking up. He looks at you, maybe about to argue, but you grab a pair of boxer briefs and shirt out of his go bag and chuck them blindly in his direction. “I’m not in the mood to argue with you.”

He huffs at you, which is caught short when you glare at him, and he leaves for the bathroom like you haven’t seen him clothesless before. You turn the bedsheets back and realise he really hasn’t slept, he wouldn’t let any sort of room service to come in if he had files all over his bed. And yet there’s not a single crease in the bedsheets, nor is the duvet tucked the way Aaron likes it.

God, you hate that you know how Aaron likes to tuck his bedsheets under the mattress.

“I’m not,” Aaron says softly, pointing at the bed.

“You’re lying down and closing your eyes for twenty-three minutes, and I’m going to sit here, and watch you.” He cocks his head at you, squinting and you think he might argue. “I swear, each time you try to get up, I’m restarting the twenty-three minutes.”

“I told you to not talk to me like you talk to Jack.”

“I’m not talking to you like I talk to Jack because Haley makes Jack takes naps. I’m the cool aunt.” Then you point at the bed and Aaron nods. 

You join him, sitting with the pillows as you kick your shoes off.

“I’m not going to sleep,” he says and you stroke the hair above his ear, tapping lightly to remind him that you’re not arguing. “Why twenty-three?”

Because it’s the magic number of minutes that gets you to sleep, you think. You’ve spent many nights just sitting there, watching him as he shakes post-nightmare, where you just stroke his hair. Time and time again it’s taken exactly twenty-three minutes to lull him back into sleep.

“Hush,” you whisper, pulling your socked feet up onto the bed and making it your mission to softly stroke all the gel out of his hair.

Tonight he falls asleep in record time, ten minutes and then he’s completely dead against your leg, snoring softly. You smile when he mumbles something, nuzzling into your leg, his hands grabbing at something but you’re not sure what. Not until he shuffles blindly, reaches around, grabs a pillow and returns to pressing his face into your leg and hugging the pillow close to his chest.

True to your word, you leave after twenty-three minutes. It’s an ordeal to leave, hoping that you don’t wake Aaron. Because while his twenty-three minutes is up, you pray he actually stays asleep for longer. You swing your shoes between your fingers as you open the door, bracing your hand against the door as you pull it closed. 

“You’re not sleeping together?” Dave asks, making you jump. He’s leaning up against his doorframe with his arms crossed. 

“Time out,” you say through a forced smile. “We work cases differently.”

“No you don’t,” Dave responds.

“We work cases that are personal differently,” you say sourly. “Don’t profile me.”

“I’m not, I’m just saying you two are inseparable and now of all times you’re barely even communicating. I don’t think I saw you both go home together since Shaunessy’s death, he’s been in the office until hours that aren’t humanly possible. You didn’t come into the bullpen once, or send any coffees, and I think I’ve counted two fights while we’ve been here.”

“Dave,” you say warningly. “It was one. And it was a disagreement about the way he approached something I agree on.”

“Something’s been off since you got the coffees,” Dave says, straightening up. 

You frown and point towards your door. “I need to get some sleep.”

“You were too quick to patch things up, and you never call people unusual pet names unless you want to speed up the soothing over a fight process.” He raises an eyebrow and waits for you to disagree with him. “You’re overcompensating and something happened when you were getting coffees. You’re patching things up because you’re uncomfortable and afraid.”

“Yeah, Dave, we’re looking into a serial killer that was dormant for almost a decade that my ex-husband was obsessed with, and my sister-in-law knows back to front. Uncomfortable and afraid should be the name of my autobiography.” You pull out your keycard from your waistband and go to your door.

“I haven’t heard you mention Catalina in years.”

“Yeah, well, no one heard from me for years,” you snap. 

Dave nods slowly, crosses the hall, and takes your keycard from your hand and swipes it. “Let’s talk.”

He pushes the door open, tells you to get changed into something more comfortable, and makes the closest thing to tea he can when he has to fill the kettle up by filling mugs in the bathroom sink and pouring it in. You come back in an FBI academy sweatshirt with one of Aaron’s shirts safely beneath it. You couldn’t find your pyjama pants so you’ve just thrown on a pair of gym shorts.

Dave motions for you to sit at the shitty table by the window, bringing over the tea and placing it in front of you before sitting as well. 

“What’s brought Felix to the front of your mind, Tesoro?” he says softly.

You smile a little with a tiny little laugh at the pet name. “That brings back every time you picked me up from a party in school.”

He shuffles his chair over so he’s sitting closer to you, but still gives you enough space that it doesn’t feel like he’s crowding you. “Talk to me.”

“Why do you think I married Felix?”

“Because you loved him.”

“Cat was terrified of him. She moved to Boston, she changed her name, her mom too. And I just married him? I saw nothing wrong with that?”

“You didn’t know,” Dave says softly.

“I should’ve,” you defend. “Dave, we got married straight out of highschool. I mean, we did the academy together, and then I thought it was just normal that we stopped seeing people outside of work.”

“That happens--”

“No, it doesn’t, Dave. He told Cat that Saskia was sick and couldn’t have visitors. He told Cat that I was sick, that’s why she stopped coming over. I lived thinking that was my fault, he always told me that she stopped coming over because I--” you jab at your chest before reiterating, “I made her uncomfortable. She almost cried when I said she could meet Saskia.”

Dave reaches over and squeezes your hand. “What Felix did isn’t your fault.”

“I should’ve seen it, Dave. I mean, I was miserable. Genuinely. The first time I saw Haley and Aaron in almost a year was the lake. With Kayla, when April was taken.”

“Did Felix ever use that against you?” he asks and you’re genuinely surprised that he’s, what feels like, changed the conversation.

“No?” you respond. Which you immediately know is wrong. “Yeah. He’d bring it up all the time. He used to take Saskia from her crib when she was little and move her around the house and tell me I didn’t know because I wasn’t diligent enough.”

“You know that’s not true,” Dave says softly and he reaches out, squeezing your wrist. “You’ve raised a beautiful little girl who’s survived more than most people will ever see, or even hear about. If you were a horrible mother she wouldn’t worship you the way she does.”

“I know I’m not a horrible mother, Dave,” you respond with a small smile. “But she didn’t know that. Not the woman who gave birth to Saskia, or the woman who came home to her husband’s dead body with her daughter spared for no conceivable reason.”

“She’s become you,” Dave tells you, cupping your cheek. “And she’s an incredible woman, mother, and agent. And she won’t take anybody’s shit. And that man in there--” Dave points to the door in the general direction of Aaron’s room. “He is possibly one of the softest men in the world. Sure, he’s got some rough edges, but he would die before he ever hurt you. Right now the road is rocky, but soon the rockiest road the two of you are going to have is a tub of it in your freezer.”

“Y’know, if you gave one of those peptalks to yourself you probably would have one less ex-wife.”

“Don’t divert this conversation,” Rossi chuckles. “I’m sorry I didn’t see the signs and come get you.”

“Me too,” you whisper, draining your mug.

“Get some sleep, Tesoro. This case is draining all of us.”

“Yeah, you too.” 

Dave stands, taking your mug and putting both of them in your bathroom sink.

“Kid, you’re great. Don’t phase Hotch out because you’re scared of making the same mistakes.” He grabs your cheeks and places a kiss on each of them.

“Thanks for playing Dad. I needed it.”

“Yeah, thought I could do a dry run before Aaron bursts in a spectacular display of self loathing and pity.” He pulls a face that’s nowhere near Aaron’s then, in a very accurate Aaron impression, he says: “I had ten years, Dave, this is all my fault.”

You snort and Dave points at your bed.

“Get some sleep.”

“Night, Dad,” you tease.

“Night, Kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~me: this is perfect fanfic opportunity for smutty, smutty, sex.  
> also me: nope no sexy times just cuddles it is not realistic that aaron hotchner, who does not allow himself to sleep on cases, would take time away to pound one out~  
> ~David Rossi is mom and dad's Dad~  
> ~updates are going to be slow i have !essays! oops~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Kiddly Winks, here's the (almost) end of Omnivore~

“We’re going to see Foyet,” Aaron says to you and the team as you’re all pouring over paperwork. By ‘we’ he means him and Rossi, that’s become a certainty now. 

So you just nod him off, practically buried in a file you’ve found that wasn’t digitised, with a couple of notes from Cat. Sometimes things don’t match up, but they didn’t make it into the final novel so you assume some of it was speculation on Cat’s part. So you just thrust a paper bag of bread rolls in Aaron’s direction because you’re sure he hasn’t eaten. 

You hear Emily smirk and you’re about to look up at her with a smirk-meets-glare when Aaron grabs your hand, encapsulating both bread-bag and your hand and he tugs lightly on it, pulling you away from the paperwork.

“We,” he repeats, with a stronger emphasis on it. 

The way you look at him must look pathetic, but it’s involuntary because it’s just so freaking nice to be seen by him for the first time in a couple of days. Dave gives you a double thumbs up from the door and you’re seconds off flipping him the bird when you catch an agent looking curiously between the two of you. 

Yeah, Strauss lets you get away with a lot. The Director might too, he’s sweet on you whenever you drop by. But reputation always helps with that. Reputation that looks like it’s going to be slashed in a second if that agent eyeing the two of you off opens his mouth to someone.

“Hotch, bag, missed it.” And you give him a half head tilt towards the agent who’s looking. He just huffs and grabs the bag, offering you the tiniest flick of his lips in place of a smile. 

****

“This is the shittest bread I’ve ever eaten,” Dave says from the front of the car while you all watch the street for Foyet to show up.

Curse Dave for hating the bread. You only bought two rolls, and fuck they smell incredible. And now the car smells incredible.

“If it’s that bad,” you say, reaching a hand between the two of them.Dave snatches it out of your reach and you might honestly smack him one, but Aaron tears off a small chunk and puts it in your hand.

“For the birds, Hotch?” Dave asks judgmentally. 

There’s a defensive part of you that perks up when Dave says ‘bird’, if only because that was Felix’s pet name for you for too long. Aaron catches it before you can think on it for too long, leaning over to kiss your hand.

“No birds here,” he says with a knowing look.

Dave nods, he hasn’t noticed your reaction to the pet name nor the way Aaron kisses your hand, he’s too caught up on watching for Foyet. Aaron leans over and snatches the bread from Dave’s hand, throwing it back to you before Dave can disagree. You catch it and shove it in your mouth, smiling at Dave like a chipmunk when he swivels to glare at you.

“Days like this I am glad I did not know the two of you, together, when you were in highschool,” Rossi says. “Nightmare, the both of you.”

You playfully grab a chunk out your mouth and hold it out. “Want it back?”

“No.” He waits for a moment and then asks, “How did Cazargati find this guy?”

“He interviewed him extensively for his book. They kept in touch.”

“She,” you correct quietly. “Lana met Foyet in person, no point walking in there lying to him.”

“Cazargati is a woman?”

“Mhmm.”

Dave looks suspiciously between the two of you. “You both knew this?”

“Yup,” you both say in unison.

Dave doesn’t respond, but the fed up look between the two of you is enough. “So Cazargati and Foyet are friends?”

“As friends as one can be with someone they interview,” you say. “Foyet wouldn’t give her his phone number.”

“He gave her one of his aliases, though,” Aaron tags onto the end. There’s barely a breath before he’s pulling on the car door handle and readying himself to get out. “That’s him.”

The three of you slip out the car like you’re a hit squad for the poor guy as he tries to walk home with his groceries. Aaron and Dave flash their badges as they approach, you following them up as Aaron introduces himself.

“We’ve met once before, do you remember?” Aaron says. Foyet looks between Dave and Aaron, but his eyes land on you and look for maybe a little too long.

“Yeah, I remember.” Then he looks behind him, clearly paranoid. “Would you mind if we get off the street, please?”

You follow him into his house, Aaron touching your back lightly as you go inside. It’s a moment, but it’s enough of a moment. You linger in the antechamber of Foyet’s home, looking at the generic supermarket artwork. Nothing all that special, some of them still had the 6X11 in the bottom left corner. There’s a cute one you’re sure Saskia would like, even though it's a stock photo, to the left of his door, just above a window that has a prime view of the street.

The window is a weird texture, though, for someone so paranoid. Like little glass pebbles, almost a film of bubble wrap pulled over where a window should be. It warps the street so sometimes you’re looking at the street, other times people. There’s no coherence in it. 

You’re drawn towards the door to the kitchen as he starts to talk about the reaper stabbing him. You stand in the doorway, leaning against the door, hands protectively falling to your own scars before you realise and change to hugging your torso.

“I couldn’t move. I just sat there, bleeding, and watched him kill Mandy. He stabbed her 67 times,” Foyet says, on the verge of tears.

You watch Aaron put one hand behind his back, rubbing his forefinger and thumb. You cough lightly just to tell him that you’re there and he seems to calm, wrapping his fingers around his thumb. 

Foyet doesn’t break his eye contact with Aaron. “Do you know how long it takes to stab somebody 67 times?”

You shake your head lightly and Foyet’s eyes snap to you. He seems to know. It’s like he’s got a sixth sense or something. He adds “I never found the ring” meekly at the end, and if you’d been anyone else you might have cried. Maybe. You know that Aaron’s teetering on the edge of spiralling but he pulls himself back just enough.

“He should have left your glasses on his next victim,” Aaron says. “But he didn’t. He held on to them all this time.”

“What, you think he’s got some special interest in me?” Foyet picks up the glasses in the evidence bag shakily, turning it over in his hands. “I’ve been living with that possibility for the past eleven years.”

“Have you received any strange letters or calls? Hang ups?” Dave asks.

He hasn’t, out the corner of your eye you can see a chalkboard where he’s marked how many people have walked past his house. Surprisingly few in the last week compared to who you’ve seen walk up and down in the short time the three of you were waiting for Foyet to arrive. 

There’s something that doesn’t sit right with you. 

With all the photographs, there’s not one of Mandy. Not hidden behind a frame, shoved behind a cabinet. God knows, even though Felix had been a bane on your existence you’d kept his photographs until he threatened Saskia. Memories of him, dotted around the house. In front of the TV, in the hallway. Hell, even now you’ve got a couple of pictures. The happy ones. A picture of Sas and Felix at a pumpkin farm, Sas is still so little that her arms are all chubby and her jacket’s too big. The picture of all of you at Halloween is still in your wallet, Felix folded out of it but he’s still there.

Why wouldn’t Foyet keep a photograph of Mandy?

“We’ll need your other names and residences so we can reach you,” Dave says and you’re wandering back into the room, trying to see if there’s a photograph behind the tins of soup or dropped between the refrigerator and wall.

“We can take you someplace safe until this is over,” Aaron says.

“No, Boston’s my home. It’s the one thing I promised I would never let him take from me.” 

That you understand. “We can protect you here,” you say.

The look in his eyes is earnest when he looks at you like you’ve said something that offends him. 

“You can’t protect me. Nobody can.” He starts scribbling things down into Rossi’s notebook. “Please be careful with this.”

“He’s just a man, nothing more,” Aaron says softly.

“Then why can’t you catch him?”

Aaron doesn’t pause, not even for a heartbeat. “We will.”

You’re leaving, Dave touching your shoulder lightly to push you out the door when Foyet calls your name. It’s soft, meek, almost hurt, but laced with curiosity.

“How many times?” he asks you. His hands hover over his chest, his scars, and you hollow your cheeks for a second before answering him.

“Thirteen. Seven superficial,” you say. 

“Did you lose someone too?”

You really do hesitate this time, because Dave doesn’t know and it’s not really something you want to just throw into the universe and have to explain in the middle of this case of all cases.

So instead you just give him a small smile, nod weakly, and say “thank-you for your time.”

****

Unknown number: (4) missed calls  
Unknown number: (4) voice messages  
Unknown number: text  
Text: agent Hotchner isn’t answering I need to talk to someone I know you said everything goes through him.  
Text: please, I just need to talk.

It’s Cat, you know it, but if she’s not using her cell then something must be actually wrong. She sends a picture that you don’t have time to open because you’re driving up to the fbi headquarters and Cat’s pacing out the front. You squeeze Aaron’s shoulder for his attention and he nods, having already seen it. 

Well, she’s not pacing but she’s as good as. You’ve seen that Cat stance one too many times, the way she braces herself like her bones are rigid yet her fingers never stop this nervous tap like branches in the wind. She has a document in a sealed plastic bag, no doubt something from the reaper. 

“Hey,” she says in greeting, becoming the air of professionalism in the space of one word. “This was dropped off at my office.” She doesn’t look at you for any longer than the others. Again, air of professionalism.

Dave takes it, studying the note and Aaron looks like he’s about to throw hands with someone.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly and Cat nods, drawing her coat tighter around herself. It's a move both the boys miss.

Dave leaves with the note saying he'll give it to evidence and you're left with Aaron and Cat.

"Are you going to run the story?" Aaron asks, although it's less of a question and more a nudge towards 'no'.

"If I don't, he'll just give it to somebody else," Cat defends. You're impressed with the way she can effortless change herself for a professional setting. Honestly, you're used to her rambling and always looking on the verge of tears, but she looks like she belongs there. Right there, in front of Aaron, defending her job.

"Maybe, maybe not." Aaron pauses, looking down at her like she might crack. You would have if you were in Cat's shoes and didn't know Aaron. Cat just tilts her head and let's him continue.

"To him you're special. He wants you to know why he stopped." 

"What do you mean?" Cat's voice has all the defensiveness that her body lacks. She keeps herself non-confrontational but her voice--damn. You're pretty sure that's the voice she used to use in debate.

"You wrote his biography, Lana. Believe me, over the last 10 years, he's read those words thousands of times," Aaron's voice moves from calm to somewhat judgemental. You're pretty sure he's managed an admonished laugh that makes you want to grab his arm and drag him in the building. "Your book has sustained him. In his mind, nobody knows him better than you do. Nobody cares for him like you."

Cat lets her facade slip for a second, looking to you with all the fear she could muster.

Honestly, Aaron's right. It's why you brought Cat's notes in--no one does know the Reaper like Cat does. Aaron knows the profile but Cat knows the ins and outs. A deeply unsettling thought. 

"Do you remember what it was like here ten years ago on the street? The fear?" Aaron does his little intimidating head cock and Cat doesn't back down. She looks at him like she used to look at Felix. Tired, fed up, and waiting for an opportunity to talk. "And that's when people trusted the police, not this time. Not if you tell them about Shaunessy."

Aaron waits.

Cat waits him out.

She turns her foot in the gravel, listening to the crunch against the cement.

"But it's a hell of a story. Run with it," Aaron says at last. 

You half expect Cat to make a snide joke about finally getting to speak. Instead she glares at him.

"Do you have any idea what you're asking me to do?" She says. She's not offended, if anything she's just hoping that he'll take a moment to hear her out.

"I'm not asking you to do anything."

"Yes, yes you are. This is the biggest story of my life. And it's mine. It's an exclusive. The book, that was great, no one touched that deal, but this is something further."

"I can offer you full and exclusive access to the FBI's Behavioral Analysis unit after we catch him," Aaron says.

Cat just scoffs and shakes her head. "Right, if I hold the story."

"I didn't say that," Aaron responds quickly.

"Full access to the unit?" Cat repeats and Aaron nods.

"No one's ever had that before."

"I know, but what if we can't catch him?"

"Hun," you interject, only using the pet name because it feels like you're betraying her to call her Cat out here. "I know this story is massive, and yours, and I know Aa-Hotch, here, isn't telling you NOT to run it, but I am."

Aaron turns to you and you hold up a finger, silencing him.

"Everything about this case is off. I know I wasn't here a decade ago, but I know what police distrust is like." You wait until Cat's nodding along. "I'm not saying stop all your coverage, because I've been following it and it's some of your best work. But this?" You point towards the building. "Not a good idea."

"You're only saying that because--"

"No, Ki--" you cut yourself off from calling her Kitty Cat, instead opting for "Lana Banana, I'm not saying it because I remember you this high and took you to egg your first ex boyfriends house. I'm saying it because the moment people stop trusting the police, there's chaos. We'll lose him." 

"Like last time," Cat says, chewing at her cheeks. "Okay, yeah, I'll think about it." 

Aaron doesn't huff. He just looks at you, turns away and goes inside like you've completely undermined him.

"This is all a clusterfuck, right?" Cat sighs, pushing her hair off her face. 

"Oh yeah," you agree. "Hun? You're right in the middle of this. And the Reaper has obviously taken a liking to you."

"No one's safe," Cat finishes for you. "Yeah, I get it." She glances towards the doors that Aaron went through moments before. "Lana Banana? Really?"

"Yeah, I slept on it and decided it was the best nickname I could come up with."

"What do you call him? Hotchpotch?"

"That's a good one. It's mostly Aar Head." 

"So you guys are on first name terms?" Cat prods curiously. 

You just roll your eyes and squeeze her shoulder. "You don't have to give me his number," you say affectionately. "And, hun, text me if you go to any Reaper related things. I mean anything, even if it's meeting with Foyet." 

"Did he let you into his place?" Cat asks.

"Yeah."

"It was weird, right? All those photos without photos. Even when I was hiding I at least made it look like I lived there." 

"Like I said, call me. Even if it's seeing Foyet. I know he's your friend but--"

"Don't trust anyone, I get it." She leans over and kisses your cheek. "I never trust anyone. You might be an exception." 

****

You knock lightly on Aaron's door twice. He calls something that's muffled by the door then he's opening it.

He's rolled his sleeves up, his tie half undone, hair a mess where he's run his hands through far too many times. He gives you a nervous, half cocked smile. 

"You need to eat," you say, shaking a bag of takeout between the two of you. He starts "not hungry" and you shake your head. "No excuses, I got the rice separate from the curry so you can't get all upset about the rice being soggy." 

"I love you."

"I know." 

He lets you in, moving things around so you’ve actually got somewhere. You’re not sure how Aaron-the-meticulously-tidy manages to get his hotel room this messy, but this case has been particularly bad so you guess that explains it. 

“Hey,” Aaron says as he pushes his rice around, eyeing off the curry, like he can’t decide if he wants to mix them. 

“Hey?” you respond, pulling your legs up onto the chair. 

“I’m really sorry for how I’ve been treating you,” he doesn’t mumble it, he’s actually quite clear, but the way he picks at his dinner makes it look like he wanted to mumble it.

“Thank-you.” You smile at him when he looks up and reach out your foot to place it on top of his knee. “And I’m sorry that I used my Jack voice on you twice.”

“I needed it,” Aaron grins and for a moment the case is forgotten. “You could’ve stayed last night.” 

“I, uh, talked to Dave,” you say like it explains why you left. Aaron looks up, cocking his head, but he doesn’t push you to say anything more. He just looks you over and then goes back to picking at his dinner. “We can go get something else if you want, Aar.”

Aaron shakes his head. “No, no, it’s okay. Just thinking about Foyet.”

“Yeah?”

“Would you have wanted protection? If you were him?”

“Yeah,” you respond quickly. But then the more you think about it you change your answer. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Really?” Aaron says, finally pulling his curry towards him.

“He’s been hiding for ten years. And for those ten years he’s not been found. It would make zero sense to throw police out the front of your residence. I want to say yeah I would, but I know I wouldn’t. They offered a twenty-four hour watch after I closed White Lily. The guy broke out of prison for seventy-two hours then handed himself back in, but hell. It was more terrifying to know that they could find us because there were cops sitting outside the house.”

“You think he’s thought it through that much?”

“Yup,” you respond, nodding. “Something’s off about him, though.”

“Yeah, that happens to loners.”

“They start smelling like canned beans,” you groan. “He didn’t have one picture of Mandy. It was like she didn’t exist.”

“Maybe it’s too painful to see her,” Aaron says. “It has been ten years.”

“The way he talked about her, though. He’s still in love with her. At least a little bit. It seems strange that he wouldn’t keep a photo or two around.” You sigh at the thought of bringing up Felix again. “I had a picture of Felix in my wallet until a couple of months before I moved back into Dad’s place… Seven years. I’d probably still have one if I dig around for long enough.”

“Yeah,” Aaron reaches over and takes your hand with his free hand. “Foyet’s not the guy we’re looking for, he’s allowed to be weird.”

“Mhmm,” you murmur. 

“You doing okay?” he asks, shuffling his chair closer to you.

“Yeah, no,” you say softly, thinking about what Cat had said about Sas being 'sick'. “It’s okay, it’s not all that important.” It’s just that massive baggage I lug around in the shape of my ex husband, you think. “We can talk about it after we’ve closed the case.”

He shakes his head, touching your chin lightly to draw your face to him. “Talk to me," he says softly. "I've got time." 

"It's not about the case," you reassure him, kissing him lightly. 

"I know," he murmurs. "Is it something Cat told you?" 

"Yeah, but it's okay. Felix is dead, he can go do one." You fake a basketball shot towards the window that makes Aaron chuckle. But only for a little bit as he’s quick to turn all attention back to you. You sigh, knowing that he’ll sit like that for hours until you talk to him and this case doesn’t have hours to give up.

“I thought,” you start, not looking him in the eye. “I thought Cat stopped coming over because I said something to upset her but Felix, fuck, he’d told her that Saskia was sick.”

“She wasn’t?” Aaron whispers, but he catches himself quickly, masking his face by gently pressing his hand against the back of your neck and pulling you forward to kiss your forehead. 

“No, she wasn’t,” you whine and Aaron nods, nuzzling into your hair with his nose before pulling away. 

There’s nothing that Aaron can say, but the look he gives you says everything you needed to hear. And maybe there would have been a chance for the two of you to say something if you weren’t interrupted by the insistent knock of one of your many work children. 

“Hey,” Prentiss calls. “I don’t want to disturb anything that’s… going on… but there’s some shorthand Reid can’t decipher and you seem to know it better than anyone else.”

You and Aaron share a dramatic sigh, not unlike the thousands of sighs the two of you have shared every time Saskia and Jack ask for anything. 

“I’ll be there in a second,” you call back and Aaron drops his head to your shoulder.

“We’re in Reid’s room,” Emily says and you’re sure she hasn’t left.

“Okay,” you respond.

Aaron groans as Emily’s boots disappear with a clop, clop, clop, down the hall. 

“You okay if I go?” you whisper like the sanctity of the room has been broken. 

“Me? I’m fine,” he says. He’s convincing enough so you just nod and collect your stuff.

“Eat,” you say, soothing down your outfit. “Don’t work yourself into the ground.”

Your hand is on the door knob when Aaron says something quietly that you don’t quite hear. He waits for a second then repeats himself.

“Why’d you take the deal? With that serial killer?”

You drop your hand from the knob and turn to him. “It felt like the safest path to take. There was Saskia, and you, and Haley, and Jack, and he saved me from Felix. Saved Saskia from Felix. There were too many variables and I was scared.” You watch him as he seems to take it into consideration. “But then I also have this really cute husband who has morals far stronger than anyone I know who absolutely thought I’d made the wrong choice.”

“I didn--”

“Yes you did.” You cross the small distance, kissing his gel ridden hair. “And I love you for it. Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“If the Reaper offers you a deal, you don’t take it.” (Aaron nods) “I want to hear your words,” you tease.

“I promise not to take any deal.”

“Good. I love you, my lil’ serial killer hunter.”

Aaron blushes, prodding playfully at your stomach, both pushing you away and pulling you closer. There’s a collection of hushed whispers outside the door and there’s no way either of you can stay locked up in here for much longer.

“I love you too,” he mumbles.

“I have to go help the kids.”

“Yeah.”

***

You were the first one to the house, finding Morgan sprawled out on the grass with bits of glass all through him. Everyone turns up not soon after, you watch their cars pull up through the broken window, then find yourself gravitating towards the kitchen. 

How nothing feels right.

How the team just seem to accept that Foyet’s dead because of all the blood on the kitchen floor. But it just feels… wrong. Like you’ve seen it somewhere before. It’s not until Dave comes in and almost slips in the blood that you remember. Remember that’s how you assumed your mom had died, almost identically. An eerie similarity, really. Especially when you see a foot slip in the blood by the back door, almost in the same place it had been when Dave had found you. 

When your mom ‘died’.

“I think there’s a real chance Foyet’s not dead,” you say quietly to Dave when Spencer and Aaron leave.

Dave nods solemnly. “I think you may be right.”

***

Turns out, gut feelings should be trusted more often. 

Because Foyet’s not dead.

And Garcia can’t find Lana. Her mobile’s off and she could be anywhere. Genuinely, anywhere. You’re moments off having some stress induced shout at Spence while he bounces his knee. Then--

“Cat,” you breathe, pulling out your phone. The team all frown at you, but you’re on too much of a roll to notice. “Garcia, drop your look for Lana. Catalina Garza, I’m sending you her cell.”

There’s a silence that probably goes on for mere seconds but it feels more like hours. 

“Found her,” Garcia finally says. 

Aaron grabs your arm while you’re leaving, tugging you to him while the team load themselves into the cars.

“You need to be ready for the possibility,” Aaron says, eyes flicking up and down your face.

“That Cat’s dead, I know.” You offer him a brave smile. 

“Okay,” he murmurs and presses his hand to your cheek before you both climb into the driver seats of your respective cars. You don’t tell him that if Cat’s dead, Foyet’s not going to live. 

You’ll beat him so far passed death that the medical examiner won’t be able to identify him. And you’ll gladly wear all of the consequences of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~updates may take a little longer than usual--while essays are done now i'm at work for 80% of my day where i can't write (boo)~


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~there are some sexy times ahead~  
> The long chapters are going to make sense soon I'm SORRY THEYRE SO LONG. We have amplification in here but we skip the meat of the episode and end up at the start and end.

Cat's alive.

You can hear her from the street. She's trying so hard to be calm. She's scared. She's so scared. But she's so, so, so calm.

She's using her Felix voice.

Let them know you're scared.

Don't give them the satisfaction of begging. 

Honestly, she'd make a good negotiator.

When you get in the house, Cat's sitting behind her computer, Foyet with a gun trained on her. She’s surprisingly calm, you’ll give her that, as she just types away like nothing’s wrong. Even when you and Aaron sidestep into the room, both standing either side of Cat like her own personal body guards, she doesn’t pause typing.

Although you do note that she writes: ‘Hi! Thanks for Turning up! :)’ before erasing it.

“I’ll kill her,” Foyet says, standing from his chair.

“You need her to write your story,” Aaron counters. 

‘Can I stay silent?’ Cat types out. ‘Just shift if yes’. So you shift where you are, and Cat’s shoulders heave in relief. Then she just starts aimlessly typing away, putting letters on her screen.

You lift your eyes from the laptop, narrowing them on Foyet. 

“I’m taking her with me,” Foyet says like it’s an ultimatum. Cat pauses, eyes flicking up in fear. If you didn’t have your gun trained on Foyet you’d squeeze her shoulder. “I’ll let her go as soon as I’m safe.”

Cat shakes her head, just the tiniest bit and you side step into her vision. Foyet's still staring at Aaron. Aaron is his sole goal, the one thing that Foyet wants attention from. Validation. 

For him, no one in the room exists except for Aaron Hotchner. 

“No you’re not,” Aaron returns and you’re itching just to reach down and squeeze Cat’s shoulder but you can’t. 

“I SAID I’D KILL HER,” Foyet yells. Cat stops typing, her eyes trained on Foyet.

“You kill her, I kill you.”

There’s a pause, a play off between them, like both of them are testing the waters of desperation. 

“You really think I’m afraid to die?” 

No, you think. But you are afraid not to see the aftermath. Afraid not to see people quake at his name, write books about him, make movies about him. Romanticise him. 

‘Just like Felix,’ Cat’s typed out, completing your thought. 

Yeah, just like Felix. 

“You’re not afraid,” Aaron returns. “You’re greedy and narcissistic. You want the recognition that’s going to come from the book she’s going to write. You want the fame that’s gonna come from the media. It’s gonna be like Bundy.”

“I’m going to be bigger than Bundy,” Foyet responds like a child wanting attention from their parents. 

“You can’t enjoy it if you’re dead.”

You barely register Morgan, Emily and Spence coming in. You’re just glancing between Aaron and Foyet, trying to keep yourself in Cat’s eyeline.

“If you know me so well, how come somebody had to die to bring you here?” Foyet smiles. God, you wish you could just shoot him and take him out. Felix had said he’d always wanted to meet him, and to be honest they’d probably be buddy buddy. And that’s an awful thought. 

“That’s your choice, not mine, you’re the serial killer.”

“That’s right,” he says like it’s only just occurred to him. Then he turns behind him, drawing out his “hello Derek” for so, so, long. Morgan yanks his head back by a fistful of hair, demanding his credentials like that's the one thing that matter right now. 

Despite Foyet still being in the room, you let your hand fall to Cat's shoulder. This seems to please Foyet quite a lot as an unsettling smile spreads across the features you had once been sympathetic towards.

"Always standing in a great man's shadow, waiting for them to let you out on the stage, aren't we Mrs. Garza?" 

Without missing a beat you offer him the sweetest smile you can. 

"I get the men who make me wait in the wings killed." When Foyet frowns at you, you shrug. "None of the mess, none of the paperwork. All the satisfaction of their death."

Morgan shoves him out the door, the rest of the team following. For the first time since you've seen Aaron and Cat interact, Aaron squats beside her chair and places his hand on her arm.

"Are you okay?" He asks softly, his eyes flicking over her face. 

She nods once, twice, then gets out of the chair and flings her arms around your neck. You fold your own arms around her, offering Aaron a smile as he starts to pack up Cat's things. 

"You're ok," you murmur as you rock the both of you, rubbing circles over Cat's back. "You're okay. He can't get you."

"I'm okay," she echoes weakly. 

"You were really brave." 

"That wasn't nice," Cat mutters. 

"I know, Sweetheart. I know." 

Her lips quiver and you can feel her as she methodically goes through Psalm 23. Not so different from the 15-year-old you knew when you were younger. Then she lessens her grip on you, resting her chin on your shoulder.

"Is that THE Aaron Hotchner?" She whispers dramatically. "The one Haley had a crush on? The one that broke his leg climbing through your bathroom window?" 

"One and the same," you whisper back.

Aaron raises an eyebrow at the two of you, thankfully oblivious to your conversation. 

"Ready to head back?" He asks cautiously . 

You nod, shifting yourself so Cat's under one arm. Aaron holds his hand out for the keys, explaining that Prentiss had taken his. 

The ride back to the station is long, far longer than it felt earlier. Cat starts to post-event panic three minutes into the drive, her breathing laboured as her hands shake like there's no tomorrow. Aaron hands you back his suit jacket that was discarded to the floor when he bullet on his bullet proof vest. Cat snuggles it around her body, sticking her arms through the arms and pressing her nose to the collar, breathing it in. 

"You still wear the same cologne," Cat says, a little bolder than anything she's said leading up to this point. 

Aaron glances back at her in the rearview mirror.

"Do I?"

"That, or your sweat has a sweet melodic undertone of sandalwood," Cat says, every inflection making her sound like she belongs on a cologne commercial.

"Oh that's his sweat," you tease, leaning forward and squeezing his arm. 

Cat just grins and then she's falling back into the seat.

"I don't think I'm going to write another book on him," she says. "I might just leave crime altogether and start reviewing bread."

"Is there a big market in bread reviews?" You ask and Cat shrugs.

"Less serial killers in bread."

"Yeah they tend to be in the cereal aisle," Aaron says without cracking a single smile and Cat groans.

"You had a kid, didn't you? You absolutely did that was an appalling joke."

"I did, yeah," Aaron says softly and proudly. The smile that accompanies it makes your heart flutter.

"I'm glad you found something you're good at to do," Cat says, her eyes squeezed shut. "Not musical theatre." 

Aaron lets out a short, amused noise while you quickly say "Catalina!". 

"The world appreciates me not following the footsteps of musical theatre," Aaron chuckles.

"Mhmmmm," Cat says. "Thanks for learning to drive." 

"You're welcome, Catalina," Aaron returns like he's school captain again when he almost ran you, Haley, Cat, and Felix off the road while trying to change gears. 

Yeah.

Thank God he learnt how to drive.

***

The team fly back home on the jet, but you drive back to DC with Cat. She said she'd go and see her parents (two people you haven't seen in… years, genuinely, Saskia would have been six the last time you saw them) and that she was more than willing to make a detour to see Saskia. 

You get the phone call two hours away from DC. Foyet’s broken out of prison. No one has any idea where he is. You can’t not tell Cat, so you just assure her that she’s safe. Aaron offers her witness protection, which she seems to weigh heavily before nodding.

“Can I meet Saskia first?” she asks quietly. “I would really like to meet my niece.”

There’s shuffling of paperwork on the other side of the phone on Aaron’s end. “Yeah. I’ll pick her up from school, take her to the meeting spot. I’ll text the location.” 

He does just that. Originally, you’re sure, you were supposed to meet somewhere cold and clinical. Instead, you meet at a park not all that far from JJ’s place. Saskia’s twirling herself around a sign post pole instead of playing on the playground, which seems about right. Every now and then she leans out as far as she can, holding on with just her finger tips, reaching out to see if she can reach Aaron.

Every now and then she manages to brush her fingertips against Aaron’s brown jumper and she looks ecstatic for it. You’re glad she hasn’t noticed the way he sways just enough for her to reach.

“Mom!” Saskia screams when you pull up, waving aesthetically. She’s so loud you can hear her through the windows. 

Cat gasps, pressing her hand over her heart. “She’s so big,” Cat says, hushed. 

“Yeah,” you smile. “She is.”

“So you and Agent Hotchner, then? You’re serious about that?”

“Yeah, we’re serious,” you smile, catching Aaron’s eye as you take the keys out of the ignition.

“Does he treat you well?” she runs her thumb across her bottom lip. “Does he treat Saskia well?”

“He’s a saint,” you assure her. 

“Good.”

Saskia’s a little timid when she first meets Cat. It’s to be expected. To her credit, she doesn’t hide behind Aaron but she does take his hand. She squeezes two of his fingers until you’re sure she’ll cut off blood circulation then smiles. 

“It’s very nice to meet you, Auntie Cat,” she says like she’s rehearsed it a thousand times over. Then she lets go of Aaron’s hand. “Can I show you the playground?”

She takes Cat’s hand, tugging her out to the playground. Aaron wraps his arm around your shoulders, squeezing them and placing a kiss to your temple. 

“Is she doing okay?” he says against your skin, eyes--no doubt--trained on the carpark.

“Yeah, a little shaken,” you respond, taking his hand in yours. “She’ll do okay. She’s done it before.” 

“Are you doing okay?”

“It doesn’t feel any different than before,” you confess. “Ask me again in a month when Saskia wants to know when she can see Cat again.”

“Duly noted.”

The marshall service come too quick, thankfully it’s only Sam Kassmeyer. He lets Cat stay until she finishes her ice cream with Saskia, and Saskia gives her a hug goodbye. It’s one of the biggest hugs you’ve ever seen in your life.

“She was fun,” Saskia says as she waves her off. “Can we go to Grandads for dinner?”

Saskia grabs Aaron’s hand, swinging it dramatically.

“You, Little Miss, already know we’re going to Grandad’s for dinner,” Aaron says softly. “We’re going to your dad’s for dinner,” he relays to you. “He insisted that his granddaughter must stay the night because one Haley Hotchner seemed to have stolen her the whole time we were in Boston.”

“Did you stay at Auntie Haley’s the whole time?” you gasp.

“Uh huh,” Saskia smiles. “It was closer to school and Jack and I made a hide away for all our toys.”

“You did?”

“Mhmm.” 

***

Aaron looks uncomfortable the whole drive home. He doesn’t say anything, just looks nervous as he drives. He insisted he had to drive, even when you say that you can do it. When he parks the car he just sits there, like he’s stunned, then he slumps over the wheel and his whole body heaves, the floodgates finally opening.

It’s awkward to comfort him in the car. You can reach over and place a hand on any part of his body, but you can’t scoop him into your arms. You can’t hold him. You can’t press his face into your shoulder and tell him that everything’s going to be okay while looking absolutely devastated.

“This is all my fault,” he whimpers quietly. You reach over, squeezing his wrist.

“Aaron, this isn’t your fault,” you murmur. “You said it yourself, he was the serial killer. Not you. He did this.”

“I should’ve--” he says, pulling back from the wheel and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “No, you’re right.” He snivels. “It’s not my fault.”

“It’s really not,” you assure him.

“Dave told me it wasn’t my fault, too,” he scoffs. “That was after he offered me his gun to shoot myself with.”

“God, sometimes he’s dramatic, isn’t he?”

“I wonder if that’s why his marriages don’t work out.”

“Maybe,” you agree, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it tightly. “I’d definitely divorce you if you gave me a gun and told me to do one.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Hey,” you murmur, running your hand through his hair. “I love you, and no mistake or fault you’ve made will ever make that any less true.”

“I love you too,” Aaron sighs, leaning into your hand. 

“Do you think you could direct that self loathing hatred somewhere else? Somewhere that happens to be somewhere that we haven’t had time to go in quite a while.”

Aaron smirks and wipes his cheeks. “You want to have sex with a crying man?”

“I dunno, Aar, I’ve never done it before. But I do know that I want to be with you, my favourite human being. Ehh, favourite human male.” 

“I can do that.”

The two of you barely make it through the front door before Aaron's latching himself onto you, his hands roaming over your clothed body as he mouths at your neck. You both knock into furniture and walls as you blindly try to find your way to the bedroom. 

Your legs finally hit the mattress and you're tumbling back as Aaron drags his teeth softly over your neck, before sucking at the skin, hand coming down between your legs to palm you over your pants. You grind into his hand, desperate for friction. He murmurs something into your neck that you don’t hear then pulls his head from your neck. 

“I really do love you,” he says with conviction. “I mean it.”

“I know,” you smile, hooking your hands behind his shoulders to pull him close. “I love you too.”

With no kids around, the two of you spend at least an hour messing around. Aaron’s covered in hickeys in places his suit won’t hide (but that cute, old, broken brown jumper? That’ll hide it) and Aaron reminds you that you don’t have work until Monday which only makes his hickeys worse. He likes it, though, you can tell by the way he shivers under you when you do it just right.

Aaron fumbles blindly for a condom and you catch his wrist, kissing his hand.

“No condom,” you whisper, refusing to burst the bubble you’re in. “I want all of you.”

“You’re sure?”

Sure, you and Aaron had been overly cautious since. Well, just since. It took long enough to have sex, even then it was like you guys were teenagers trying to practice “safe sex” without clueing your parents into it. But, honestly, there’s something that lacks between the two of you doing that. Of course there is.

“Yes,” you confirm. “Please.” 

He nods, capturing your lips in his.

When Aaron fucks you it’s, honestly, the closest you think you’ll ever get to understanding when people say ‘we made love’. That statement had always been a borderline joke between the two of you, where you’d make fun of other couples for saying it like it makes them superior. 

But there’s something underlying in the way he breathes you in, the way his hands curl in yours, the way his murmurs dissipate into him just repeating your name over and over again like he’s forgotten every other word. Maybe he has. How the sweat clings to both your bodies and Aaron looks like he’s finally found cloud nine. How he makes sure you come first, followed quickly by him. 

How even in the post-sex haze he gets you a glass of water and a damp wash cloth and wipes you down delicately. 

How what seems to be a one-time-and-Aaron’s-asleep event turns into an entire night of soft, delicate, precious, love making, until--literally--the sun comes up. 

Which is how you end up watching the sunrise in the reflection of Aaron’s eyes, riding him as his hands caress over your back, sucking lightly at the tissue of your breasts that are tender and bruised. Neither of you move for a while after the two of you come, opting instead to just sit there, heads nestled into each other’s necks.

Neither of you mention the case. 

You don’t mention that Foyet broke out of prison. 

You don’t mention that there’s only a couple of hours until you have to pick up Saskia from your dads and neither of you have slept.

Aaron just reaches over to the bedside table, sets the alarm for a couple of hours, and sighs. You push his hair off his face, leaving a lingering kiss on his forehead, then lips.

“You look far better,” you murmur, pushing his hair back from his face. “I like you in this light, too.”

“Yeah,” he sighs as he lowers you to the bed, tucking you in, before collapsing next to you and wrapping you up in his arms. 

It's only a matter of minutes until his body shudders in a way that you know can only mean one thing.

“I’m right here,” you assure him, squeezing his arms. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” he says into your neck. “I know.”

You wonder how Haley ever put up with his toss and turns of emotion. Maybe she didn't. The worst part is knowing when you wake he'll act like it never happened.

***

You're risen from your sleep by the buzzing of your phone on your night stand. You don't remember putting it there, then you notice that Aaron's in a completely different position than he had been before and he must have gotten up and moved some stuff around.

New Message  
Derek Merek (1)  
You'll never guess who my…  
( (1) image attached)

You squint at the phone like squinting will give you more information, then open it.

Derek Merek  
You'll never guess who my cart ran into.

Attached is a picture of your dad and Saskia at one of Morgan's favourite hardware stores. Honestly, you're not even surprised.

Derek Merek  
Can I keep the little monkey and drop her home this afternoon? 

Before you can text him back, your phone starts to ring.

"Hi Derek," you answer, voice still thick with sleep.

"Can we keep Saskia for a little longer? I'll drop her home before dinner." 

"We?"

"Yeah, did you know your dad can find the right shade of paint on sight and knows wood types without peeling the paint?" Morgan sounds far too excited about the prospect.

"I did," you respond as Aaron twists and flings an arm lazily over you. "Text me before you bring Saskia home. And tell Dad he owes you lunch."

"He doesn--"

"Morgan, think of Dave's bank account on steroids and put my dad in it. That's how much money he's got." 

There's a pause and you can physically hear the gears turning over in Morgan's mind.

"No offence, but his house is barely something someone with a quarter of David Rossi's bank account would even breathe near." 

"Try it being the house my mom died in," you respond without thinking. Aaron frowns, grabbing the phone from you.

"He spends the money on good food," Aaron says. "Do not turn down any food with her father. Good bye, Derek." 

Aaron hangs up and tosses the phone somewhere towards the end of the bed. He doesn't say anything else, just snuggles into you and tangles his legs with yours. 

"We might as well get up," you sigh, which makes Aaron shake his head ferociously. 

"Not until the alarm goes off," he grumbles. "You know that most of your file is redacted, right? That the team don't know most things about you even if they did read your file? Maybe save the dead mom house discussions for in person."

"Okay," you whine and Aaron pulls the covers up over your shoulders. 

"I don't think any of the team have both their parents alive," Aaron says, his brow furrowing against your neck.

"Spence's dad is alive," you correct.

"Doesn't count, he left Reid with a mentally unstable mother and decided the kid could fend for himself." 

"Yeah, right, doesn't count."

"JJ's dad?"

"I dunno. She never mentions him." He sighs. “I could check her file.”

“You are not checking JJ’s file for some gossip, Aaron.”

“I will and I shall.”

“You are very hot,” you comment, because damn his skin seems to be lighting you on fire. Not in a sexy way. 

“Thank you,” he chuckles and you smack his shin with your foot. “I haven’t changed the comforter from the winter one.” 

“You have a winter comforter?”

“You don’t?”

“No,” you respond. Aaron mumbles “liar” against your neck playfully. “I’m not a liar!”

“Mmm, what’s mine is yours,” Aaron says, kissing your neck. 

"Sounds good to me."

***

The next weeks are a blur. Strauss offers you your own team, which sounded like a nightmare until you realised you'd be heading up Shakespeare's team. Which is far more involved than the BAU, you're surprised to find out. Practically the middle ground between military operations, probably helped by Shakespeare's CIA connections--and no doubt yours. 

You'd still moonlight doing psych evals, and Strauss assured you that you could drop in on the BAU occasionally, working cases from headquarters. Like that would the any different from the amount of files you and Aaron both leave lying around the study you share.

"I work anything Foyet related," you say before closing the meeting. 

And maybe, just maybe, it's not the smartest thing to demand what cases you can't and can work in a room with the Director of the FBI and CIA sitting at the other end of the table. Even Strauss looks at you like you've set off a ticking time bomb. 

When neither director responds you continue.

"The Boston Reaper," you continue. "I go back to the BAU on anything related to him. Shakespeare takes over my team." 

"Agreed," the director of the FBI says. "It is also in my best interest to tell you that… this team is the closest we will get to a rogue operation within the FBI." 

"Our motto is do now, explain later," the director of the CIA adds. "Forgiveness is easier to give than permission." 

"You're encouraging a rogue team?" You shift uncomfortably in your seat, glancing sideways at Erin. “You have to understand the last time I was offered a job this good a CIA operative tried to get me killed. Twice. And the first time was foiled because one of my team had been hunting them since my mother’s death--which, mind you, was a while ago--and the second because I got stabbed and that kind of put me out of commission for a while.”

“We understand that ma’am. This is totally legitimate.” 

The director of the FBI sits back in his chair, crossing his legs. “We’re just saying that telling us what cases you do and don’t take won’t be all that important.”

Which is how you take the job, and how you explain it to Aaron. Realistically, the job is more what you… feared, in the kindest way.

It's not a bad job by any means. In fact it's a job Aaron would probably thrive in. No, in fact he would thrive in it. There's only four of you, a fifth if you count your computer guy--Toast.

There's you, heading up the team, who Shakespeare affectionately dubbed as "Hotchner 2.0" which might, horribly, stick. Then there's Justin, a spritely thirty-year-old who's ears and mouth are too big for his face, and Alannah who can't be that much older than Spencer. She has mousy brown hair that's so long you wonder how it's not a hazard on the field.

"You're from upstairs, right?" Justin asks when you come in, a redvine hanging from his mouth.

"Yes, and we like her," Shakespeare says gruffly as he takes his seat. 

"SSA Y/N Y/L/N," you introduce.

"Wait, where'd Hotchner 2.0 come from?" Alannah says.

You just hold up your hand, displaying your engagement ring. Alannah makes a little 'o' noise of understanding. Justin leans forward and pushes his hair behind his ears. 

"That's really pretty," he says and then he names the exact make, and other paperwork details that you're sure Aaron knows. 

"He used to be a rare jewel appraiser," Alannah explains. "And if we ever need art appraised, we call Beth. She works at an art museum but she's our saving grace." 

"So you guys are like… the Torchwood of the FBI?" You ask, cursing the fact that you'd just finished a Torchwood marathon with Reid and Garcia. Emily too, actually, she said she'd stay for half an episode and stayed for the whole thing.

"Oh! Can I be Tosh?" Alannah says excitedly. 

"What does that make you, Gwen Cooper?" Justin directs to you.

"We all know you're Owen because you're an annoying little bastard," Shakespeare says. "And I have first dibs on that Welsh beauty. Which makes our newbie Jack Harkness." 

"An irresistible immmortal?" You say, perching on the edge of Shakespeare's desk because you haven't got one just yet. "Sign me up."

Justin gives you a lopsided grin. "Yeah, we can keep you."

And having these two seperate teams is also why you and Aaron both are called on a Saturday night when you should be going to bed, explaining a potential anthrax attack. You both get vastly similar stories, meaning it’s pretty much the same thing and you know it's not a drill.

“Media black out,” you both say when you’ve hung up on your respective directors.

“We can’t tell the kids,” Aaron says. A lump forms in your throat and you nod. 

You can’t. This is one of those jobs where you have to do the job, and do it well, or you lose everyone. Not 'everyone' and then you can go home to those who are safe, everyone. 

“Yeah,” you nod slowly. “I’ll call dad, get him to come over and take Sas.”

“Haley and Jack are still awake, Jack’s sick,” Aaron says as he pulls a suit out of the cupboard and starts pulling it on.

“I’ll call Haley,” you correct. He throws you a pair of shoes that you’d somehow managed to get under his side of the bed. 

“You can’t tell them what’s happened,” Aaron says as he makes quick work of his buttons and grabs a tie out of his drawer.

“Yeah, I know,” you give him a quick smile. It seems to calm him as he pulls his shoes on. 

You quickly shed your pyjamas that you'd only just gotten into and get redressed into your work clothes. Aaron throws your hairbrush to you as he dials Haley, hands you the phone and kisses your cheek.

"I'll go say bye to Sas. Your keys are on the kitchen bench." 

"Thanks," you smile, zipping up your skirt. You watch him leave, with the phone ringing as your background noise.

"Aaron, I'm telling you Jack's fine," Haley says as she answers. 

"Sorry to ruin your pre prepared speech but it's me," you respond as you're hopping around the room trying to get your shoes on. "Can I drop Sas at yours?"

"I thought you and Aaron don't run cases together anymore."

"We don't."

"So this is big?"

You stick your head out the door to see where Aaron is then go back into your room. "Yeah."

"Do you want Sas at mine or me and Jack at yours?"

"Doesn't matter as long as you stay there. Have a movie day or something." You pause because Aaron's walking down the corridor. He stops and you hear him grab the travel mugs out. "Inside."

"I'll come to yours," Haley says. "Jack always seems to find more to do when he's not at home. And Sas should spend her birthday at home." Shit. Saskia's birthday. If course you're working an anthrax threat on your daughter's birthday. "If Sas is up tell her I'll be there in 20." 

Like Haley's summoned her your daughter perches herself in your doorway. 

"Auntie Haley's going to be here in twenty minutes," you smile and Sas nods, grabbing your perfume from the chest of drawers and handing it to you.

"Big case?" 

"Yeah," you sigh as you spray your perfume and toss it to the comforter. "I love you."

"I know," Saskia says and holds out her hand for the phone. 

"I'll be home by tomorrow night, promise," you say, pressing a lingering kiss to Saskia's forehead. "You can open three presents in the morning, but not the one with the blue wrapping from Dad." 

"Okay," Saskia responds. She holds the phone to her ear and relays the information to Haley. "Wait," Saskia calls after you. She hands you your phone then looks at her feet. "Can you say it? Just incase the case goes for a really long time. Technically it's my birthday." 

She points at the clock and, yeah, it's passed midnight. She's right.

"Happy birthday," you say, pulling her in for a hug. She wraps her arms around your middle and squeezes you tight.

"Okay, go save the world," Saskia says. "Dad's already gone." 

"Did he say happy birthday?"

"Nope," Saskia pours your coffee into a Batman travel mug. "He was busy."

"Okay, you okay if I leave?" 

"Yeah."

You kiss her hair before grabbing the keys and running down to the car.

It's going to be a long day.

****

Long day indeed.

Long day enough that you started with all your agents and ended with Spence in hospital, Alannah crying, and Shakespeare crying when Rob calls him. 

"How is he?" You ask Morgan as you stand in Spencer's hospital doorway.

"He'll make a full recovery," Morgan says through a mouthful of jello. "Your dad made sure of that. You know he did Spence's surgery?"

"Yeah, the hospital was overwhelmed, he had an extra pair of hands," you nod slowly, watching Spencer sleep. "He made sure to keep the painkillers on the least addicting ones and kept the dosage low, Spence said he didn't want any but like. A neurofen can't hurt." 

"Don't you have a daughter to go home to?" 

"Yeah. It's Sas's birthday. I just had to check on Spence first." 

"He's okay," Morgan assures you. "I'll call you if anything changes." 

You nod slowly. "Thanks."

****

Saskia goes to bed with the record of West Side Story that Aaron bought her still playing. She's listened to it the first time with Haley and Aaron giving her little annotations. Honestly, it's the one present that outshone the rest. 

Jack's asleep in Saskia's room too, he insisted because it's Saskia's birthday and Sas didn't seem to mind. Even when Jack was sniffly as all hell.

"You look like you've been through hell," Haley says as she hands you a glass of wine. "Aaron's just having a secret breakdown shower." 

"God, I could do with one of those," you laugh into your wine glass.

"I can't offer you one, but I can offer a bottle of wine and Grease?"

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes."

Maybe it's the (3) bottle(s) of wine you consume, and the height of emotions that toss and turn, or the fact that you, Aaron and Haley start to reminisce about highschool, but all three of you (somehow) end up on bed and… well, not to sleep. 

Aaron's latched onto your neck as you kiss Haley, hand tangled in her hair. Every now and then Aaron switches, giving you and Haley the opportunity to make the other feel like they're the only person in the world.

Haley pulls your bra off, tossing it to the ground, and runs her hands softly over your bare breasts, taking one in her mouth. Aaron murmurs something you don't quite hear and then Haley's pushing you softly into the mattress. 

Aaron pulls your skirt off, followed by your underwear, running his fingers over your centre. Haley undresses, her clothes discarded somewhere that you're not paying attention to because--holy crap--Haley is gorgeous. She straddles your stomach, leaning down to kiss you. She guides your hands to her, grinding against your fingers.

"Holy crap you're so wet," you say against her lips when you break for air. Aaron nestles himself between your legs, breath ghosting over your center.

"Do you want to taste it?" Haley asks, kissing the corner of your mouth. 

You're at a loss for words, and end up just nodding as an answer. She straddles your face and you pull her down onto you, unintentionally matching your mouths movements with Aaron's own.

You drag your teeth lightly over Haley's clit as Aaron's thumb circles yours, Haley and you both unintentionally buck. 

"Right there," Haley breathes when you get the right spot. Your movements stutter as Aaron holds out two fingers to Haley and she catches them in her mouth. "Don't stop," Haley says, grinding into your mouth.

Aaron gets his fingers back and slides them into you, causing you to completely forget where you are for a moment. Haley laughs slightly, fingers tweaking at your nipples.

"Good girl," Haley coos. She grabs Aaron's chin lightly, pulling him up to her and kissing him as he pumps his fingers in you.

When Haley comes there's no missing it. Her thighs shake on either side of your head, and whatever sound she makes is muffled by Aaron's mouth but hell it sounds heavenly. 

You're close yourself when Haley tells Aaron to stop. And, God, you're not even surprised. She comes off you, kissing you and licking her juices from your chin.

"I want to watch you ride Aaron," she says quietly. "I want to watch you while he eats me out."

You bite your bottom lip and nod, the three of you reorganising your positions on the bed until you're lowering yourself onto Aaron, Haley watching with her lip caught between her teeth.

Her hands roam all over your body, finally falling to your hips and she guides you softly as she grinds against Aaron'a face. His hands fall limp beside him when he realises that he has nowhere else to put them. At least not anywhere he can choose. 

There's nothing in the world, you think, more satisfying than the post sex haze the three of you are in. Aaron has each of you tucked under each arm, and he's pretty much blissed out and you're sure he's asleep. Haley's got her fingers intertwined with yours, a leg tossed over Aaron's. 

"I could get used to this," Haley says quietly when Aaron starts to snore lightly. 

"Me too," you smile. "That was nice." 

Haley hums in response. "I'm pretty sure this is exactly what I wanted to avoid when I got divorced."

"Threesomes?" You tease.

"Sex with Aaron Hotchner," Haley responds, squeezing your hand. "But, fuck, that was good." You hum in agreement and it's not long before the two of you are asleep against Aaron.

And, yeah, you could get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot to unpack here oops. But could get used to it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *loudspeaker*: PAIN.

"Hey," Aaron says as he comes into the study, shedding his tie. "Saskia's reading until nine, it was our compromise when she couldn't see Reid." 

"Cool," you respond as you turn over a file and rub your forehead. "I never should have agreed to taking my own team." 

Aaron stands behind you and kisses your hair. He pushes the file out of the way and replaces it with an a5 binder.

Ah. The wedding planner you'd shoved under the bed after the Foyet case in an effort to avoid dealing with the future.

"What demons possessed you to look under the bed?" you ask, pushing it in the direction of the file he discarded.

"If you don't want to get married again you can tell me," Aaron says as he perches himself on the edge of your desk.

"I do," you say softly, taking his hand and squeezing it lightly.

"What's worrying you? For two months you've had that folder from Haley and you can't look at it without looking like you're going to throw up." 

"It's nothing," you say defensively, but honestly Aaron's right because you don't want to look away from him and to the folder.

"Babe, if you don't want something big we can go to that lake you like with the kids and Haley and send pictures to the team. This," he motions to the folder, "was always for the kids, not for anyone else."

"I know," you respond quietly.

"For all I care, the kids can do the ceremony. As haphazard as it was, our Vegas wedding is completely legal."

And that's it. The problem. The Vegas wedding. It's not like you didn't mean that wedding, it's just… 

"I can't…" you blow your cheeks out. "When we were in Vegas, Reno tried to kill you. I had to stand there and act like nothing was happening, staring at that fucking dot. And I had to trust Dave would get there before..." your throat tightens and you drop your gaze to the table. "I can't do that again." 

Aaron nods slowly. "That's not going to happen again." 

“You don’t know that. What if Foyet comes out of nowhere and he just kills everyone one by one?”

He doesn’t laugh at you, in fact he looks like he’s thought about exactly the same thing. He just nods and chews at his bottom lip. 

“I know your rule is three months, but may I propose eight months? We book something for eight months, and if we still haven’t caught Foyet and you still feel uncomfortable we’ll just cancel and book something else.”

“We are not cancelling on all those people,” you groan, letting your head drop to the table. “Eight months and if Foyet’s still out there we get more security than guests.”

“Eight months and if Foyet’s still out there we cut the guest list to the team, the kids, my mom, your dad, and Haley,” he compromises. “With a handful of security.”

You turn your head so your cheek is against the table. “Deal. And Sean.”

Aaron frowns, then nods. “Yeah. And Sean. Come show me what you narrowed it down to,” Aaron smiles, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

You both end up agreeing on a little venue not too far out of town, Aaron’s been there a handful of times and you’re pretty sure (pretty sure) you’d gone there when they first built it for some sort of marine gala that your dad had wanted to leave early. Seems fitting that you’d get married there. 

Or had an overly extravagant party there.

Either way.

“Do you feel better now?” Aaron teases, kissing you softly. 

“No,” you mewl. “A little." You run your hand over his temple. "Are you okay about.. . uh… last night?"

Aaron's eyes flicker over your face and he nods. "Are you not?" 

"No, no, I enjoyed it. I just didn't want you to feel like we pushed you into something you didn't want to do." 

"I wouldn't have kept going if I didn't want it," Aaron murmurs. "It was nice." 

"Yeah. It was." 

Aaron pulls your legs into his lap. "I do like not sharing you, though." You giggle as he pulls you fully onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

"A note, though, those magic hands? They're allowed to do things." You peel his hands from your back and press a kiss to each finger. 

"Mhmm," Aaron says softly. His eyes flicker over your face, watching you like he's not sure what to say. "I wasn't sure it was real, last night." 

"It was real," you assure him. "Very real." 

"I didn't want it not to be," he whispers.

You can't help the pathetic little 'awwww' meets laugh that leaves your mouth. Aaron doesn't meet your eyes so you just pull his head into your chest and rock him softly. 

"Maybe next time we'll do it sober," you say tentatively. 

There's a pause where you think maybe you've gone too far. Then Aaron nods.

"Yeah. Next time we should all be sober." He presses a soft kiss to your chest before lifting his head. "Your wedding dress arrived just after you'd left for work. Haley took it, she said she's keeping it somewhere safe." 

"I trust that she is," you smile. "How were Jack and Saskia? They weren't awake when I left." 

"Jack's still sick, Saskia took her new pens to school."

"Did they get home?" You ask, fearing a little because those were actually expensive. 

"Yes they did," Aaron smiles, cupping your face. "You look exhausted." 

"I've still got paperwork to do," you whine. 

"No, you don't, they'll still be there tomorrow. You have a shower waiting, then a full night's sleep." He kisses your cheeks lightly. "Take your own advice." 

"But there's so much," you counter. 

"And the more tired you get the more the paperworks going to feel," Aaron says softly, repeating something you've told him a thousand times over.

"I know," you say despite not believing it. 

"We can't both burn the candle at both ends, someone has to make Saskia dinner, she's not that good at fending for herself."

"If I go to bed, you go to bed," you respond. Aaron nods.

"Agreed."

You shower, then Aaron because he had to take a call from Strauss. You're caught short when you find a box of pregnancy tests at the back of the bathroom cupboard. It's been… too long. Too much unsafe sex and not…

"You okay?" Aaron asks. You jump, realising you're still crouched in front of the bathroom cabinet.

"What if I can't have kids anymore?" The question tumbles out of your mouth before you can catch it.

Aaron doesn't hesitate to join you on the bathroom floor, leaning up against the cupboard and pressing it closed. 

"I'm not with you because your body could push out babies," he says softly, causing to snort. "I'm with you because I love you." 

"Sook," you respond.

"I mean it. Yeah, a kid would be nice but we're not having kids for the sake of having kids." 

Is it pathetic to respond with 'but I want one'? Yes. Do you do it anyway? Yes. 

"I know," Aaron murmurs. "I know." 

Without hesitation he pulls you into him, leaning you both up against the bathroom cupboard. You sit in silence, sitting there with Aaron stroking your hand, your head on his shoulder. 

“We can see doctors,” Aaron says at long last. “This doesn’t have to be…”

“Whatever this is,” you finish for him. 

“Yeah,” he says softly. “We can do this. Together.”

“I wish I hadn’t been stabbed.”

“Me too,” Aaron murmurs, kissing your cheek. 

“Where’d you go the other day, after Boston? I woke up and everything was moved around.”

“I put your phone on the bedside table,” he says defensively. “I did not ‘move everything around’.” When he looks at you he kisses your cheek to distract you from the hurt all over his face. “It was just a bad dream.”

“You should’ve woken me up.”

“I didn’t need to wake you up, I just needed to see you. Breathing.” His voice has a tinge to it that makes your heart crack just a little. “It was nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing, Aaron.”

He just shakes his head. “W… when we found you… you were covered in blood. I mean, covered. Reid thought you were dead. I mean, dead, he was too freaked out to find your pulse. He kept trying but his hands just kept slipping. I… I remember Emily pulling him away. And I swear someone said ‘she’s not dead’ but it wasn’t anyone on the team. It wasn’t anyone there. Morgan was yelling at me to stop. And, I mean, you came back. But sometimes, when I’m asleep, you don’t come back.”

There’s nothing to say so you just snuggle into him, suddenly wishing you were dressed instead of both sitting on the tiled floor in damp towels.

“I know you’re here,” Aaron says quietly. “But sometimes.”

“I know,” you whisper. “I get them sometimes too. It kind of rotates between people.”

“The ones with the kids are the worst,” he continues. You just nod in agreement. “But they’re few and far between.”

“I’m glad. How did we get here?” you nuzzle into his arm. “We were supposed to go to bed.”

“I don’t know,” he confesses. “We’re just a mess, I guess.” He stands and holds an arm out to you, helping you to your feet. 

You both get dressed around each other, bumping each other out of the way while you fight for space on the vanity. Aaron mainly does it to upset you, half the time he just dramatically says things like “but my hair” and “what if my pyjamas make my ass look big” in ridiculous voices, which makes you laugh. You suppose that was Aaron’s intention because he looks far happier by the time you’re both getting into bed.

Aaron flicks off his lamp and positions himself so you can tuck yourself into him. You flick your own lamp off and snuggle up next to him. 

“How’s your team?” Aaron asks into the darkness, rubbing your arm with his thumb. “Reinhold looked like she wasn’t dealing with the case when we closed.”

“We have a no work talk policy in bed, Aaron,” you say softly but you still shift into him. “She’s six months older than Spence. She lives with her little sister and two brothers.”

“Her parents?” Aaron asks and you can feel him frown.

“Her dad died in Iraq, 2007. Mom died in a car crash early last year.”

“How old are her siblings?”

“Nineteen, twelve and eight.”

“Shit,” Aaron says quietly. “They should come over for dinner.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. That can’t be easy. I couldn’t have gotten through Dad’s death without Haley and your dad. I can’t imagine having three Sean’s running around, and losing Mom the next year.”

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

He shuffles himself and squeezes you before he snuggles himself into the covers, resting is head on yours. 

“You’re a good team Mom,” he says through a yawn.

“You’re a good team Dad,” you respond and Aaron seems to puff himself up proudly.

****

Working cases with fake-Torchwood (Justin and Toast have both agreed on calling the team “Touchwood” which makes the two grown men giggle all the time) is far more different than working them with the BAU. A BAU case would never have you flying back on a marine cargo ship with a fake black eye, and a genuine split lip. Fuck that one hurts. 

Honestly, if you’d ever told yourself that a year ago that you’d be learning how to put on a fake black eye to solve a case you’d probably think you were crazy. You kind of still think you’re crazy now. 

You’d tried to call Aaron and Saskia before you caught your flight home. The case had been high profile enough that you were all in a communication black out, so calling home was genuinely impossible. Even from the phone booth it was impossible. Aaron’s working a case in Canada of all places, and Sas’s phone keeps going to voicemail which isn’t all that different from usual. She’s horrible at charging her phone. Surely that’s impossible for almost-teenage-girls, all the parents at school say it is, but it’s par for the course for Saskia.

When you land you’re greeted by an agent with a satellite phone. To start he looks ridiculous, you think you might laugh, but then… he looks too serious. The kind of serious that makes your skin crawl. He doesn’t break eye contact with you, just stands there, holding the phone out to you.

You grab it immediately, shove the phone against your ear, blocking your free ear with your other hand so you can hear.

“Y/L/N,” you say and Alannah frowns at you while she runs over to join you.

“Foyet stabbed Hotch,” Garcia says immediately. You only know it’s her because it’s too worked up to be anyone else.

Foyet stabbed Hotch. The words finally rattle around your brain. 

Foyet.

Stabbed.

Hotch.

There’s too many follow up questions but your body won’t let you ask them. You’re just hearing the rush of blood in your ears, and are acutely aware that you’re getting colder and colder. You look around for somewhere quieter to talk, but you can’t move. It’s like your feet are full of cement.

“Ma’am?” Alannah asks, pushing her hair off her face as she squints against the sun. “Everything okay?”

Garcia’s still talking. You’re not listening. You can’t listen. Not to Garcia, not to Alannah, not to yourself. You’re trying too hard not to shake. Too hard not to just collapse on the asphalt.

“Emily’s at the hospital with him,” you hear Garcia say and you almost throw up. You do, however, drop to your knees as relief flows through you.

Hospital is good.

Foyet doesn’t let people live, but he let Aaron live.

Aaron’s okay.

“Garcia, you should have fucking opened with that,” you snap before realising that you’ve snapped at her. “Shit, sorry, sorry.”

“Should I get the car?” Alannah asks and you’re nodding.

“Garcia, is he okay?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” she just repeats it over and over again like a mantra. “I think so, I guess. No, no, he is, I mean he’s worse than he was before he was stabbed.”

“What hospital is he in?”

Garcia gives you the details and you grab a pen from a passing agent, scrawling it over your arm. 

“I’ll call you once I’m there,” you tell her.

Although, that’s not quite accurate, because when you get your car Alannah passes you your bag. Immediately you’re holding your arm out to her to give her the address and fishing around your bag for your phone. There’s a couple of voice mails from Aaron, JJ, Emily, and Garcia. A single text message from Aaron. 

Text from: Aar Head <3 -- 3.13am  
Sas & Haley had a fight. 

Voice message: Aar Head <3 (1/3) -- 3.14am  
“Hey I just got off the jet. Saskia’s somewhere, Haley thinks she took the bus home but she’s left her phone. I’ll make a couple of phone calls but if I’m not home when you land, I dunno when that is but--”

Voice message: Aar Head <3 (2/3) -- 3.22am  
“Me again. Sas just called from a phone booth, she’s okay. She lost her keys and ran out of change. She’s headed to an all night diner and she’ll call me from there. Didn’t want to worry you. I’ll call the diner just to tell them and pick her up once I’m changed out of this suit.” A pause, and you can hear a ringtone. “Mm, this is Sas again. Love you.”

Voice message: Aar Head <3 (3/3) -- 3.39am  
“Hate to throw damage control at you when you get home. Saskia’s pretty mad and I didn’t make things better.” A long, long pause. “I’m sorry I made such a mess of things.” The key to the door jingles and then he hangs up.

Voice message: Jayjeeeeeeeee (1/2) -- 8.00am  
“Hey, sorry to disturb your morning, but we’ve got another case. Do you think you could get Hotch up? He’s not answering his phone, I know we’ve all barely gotten four hours of sleep.” In the background you can hear “wow, Jayje, way to ruin a man’s morning” from Morgan and someone makes a sex joke before JJ hangs up.

Voice message: Emily’s Apprentice (1/3) -- 8.26am  
“JJ doesn’t want to bother you, but are you home? Have you got a hold of Hotch? I’m almost at your place I don’t want to freak you out by just coming in.”

Voice message: Jayjeeeeeeeee (2/2) -- 9.03am  
“Hey, hun, have you heard from Hotch? I can’t get onto either of you.”

Voice message: Emily’s Apprentice (2/3) -- 9.03am  
“Are you home? I’m calling Hotch.”

Voice message: Emily’s Apprentice (3/3) -- 9.10am  
“I don’t want to worry you, something’s happened to Hotch. There’s a hole in the wall and whole lotta blood, I don’t think it’s yours because your keys aren’t here. Uh…” there’s clicking of heels down the hallway. “I’ve got everyone here, not the team, uh forensics and stuff.” Saskia’s door opens, you can tell by the way her fairy lights bump against the door. “Saskia’s not here, her bed’s cold, but it’s not disturbed. Was she at a friend’s? I hope she’s at a friend’s. Her keys are next to the door, though. I’ll get Garcia on it.”

Voice message: unknown number (1/1) -- 2.49pm  
“It’s Prentiss, I’m calling from the nurse’s station at Saint Sebastian’s. I’ve got Garcia on my mobile, she’s finding Sas and you. Hotch was stabbed nine times but they say none of his major arteries were hit; they say it’s a miracle he’s alive. I’m about to get Garcia to find out where you guys are, you and Saskia--” then there’s an “EMILY!” that doesn’t belong in the hospital with how loud it is and you know Emily’s dropped the phone with the “Saskia” she breathes out like life’s filled her again. “I’m on mom’s voicemail, can you tell her you’re okay?” “Hi mom, I’m o--is that dad?” then you’re left with a nurse breathing down the phone before it hangs up.

Voice message: Princess Pen (1/1) -- 3.00pm  
“I just found out you’re coming out of undercover, I’m about to contact your handler, I just need you to know Saskia is okay. Ho-Hotch is… alive. Saskia’s with Emily.”

You check the time. 4.00. Why is there so much time. 

You dial Emily’s number, waiting… waiting… waiting…

Another call coming in--Garcia.

Then Emily answers and you’re stuck because you want to answer Garcia, you really do, but Emily has Saskia and Aaron and--

“Are you there?” Emily asks softly. 

“Y-y-yes. G-uh Garcia’s calling.”

“She can call back,” Emily says. “Agent Shakespeare has Saskia downstairs. She’s okay. She was a little freaked out, she thinks she did it? Because she yelled at him?” You just nod like Emily can hear it. “The team have gone to Hotch’s old house, we thought Foyet was at their house, but he’s not, we’re putting Haley and Jack into protective custody. They’re helping Haley pack.”

“Right,” you say, slapping Alannah’s arm. “Turn right.”

Thank god for good, obedient, agents. 

“Hun?” Emily asks.

“I’m going to Haley’s, tell Aaron… I don’t know, tell him something,” you sigh, stabbing the heels of your hands into your eyes. “Tell him I’ll kill him if he dies before I get there.”

“I don’t think the nurses will find that funny.”

“I’m not being funny.” You tap Alannah’s arm again. “It’s this one, with the Bureau cars.”

“This isn’t the hospital.”

“I know,” you respond. “Stay here. Please.”

There’s been many times since you’ve come back that you’ve run up Haley’s stairs two at a time, but none have felt as urgent as now. You almost bodyslam into JJ, narrowly missing her by flattening yourself against the wall. She looks like she might say something but you don’t give her the time, following Haley’s voice like a bloodhound. 

“Have you seen Aaron?” Haley asks immediately, and then the sudden realisation. “He said he was getting Saskia. She just left and—“ 

“No,” you respond to the first question. “Saskia’s ok.” 

Haley just nods, her eyes glassing over, and you don’t care if Rossi or Morgan are trying to tell you something because you’re closing the gap between you and Haley and wrapping her up in your arms. 

“Aaron’s going to be okay,” you say, more for your benefit than hers. 

“I know,” Haley says wetly. There’s a long silence where you just let Haley breathe you in and then she says; “your face looks like shit, what did you do?”

Shit. You’d forgotten about the split lip and the black ring around your right eye and the tape over the bridge of your nose.

“The eye and nose are fake,” you say like that’ll reassure her. Morgan just gives you a look you’ve never seen him give you before and Haley hands you makeup wipes. 

“And the lip?”

“The Lord’s work, hurts like a bitch.”

“You shouldn’t use naughty words,” comes the sweet, melodic tones of Aaron’s little mini me. 

“I know Jack, I’m sorry.” You scrub at your face, Dave reaching over to get the bits you miss and only then do you drop to your knees and greet the little tiger. He flings his arms around your neck then starts to tell you all about how he got to turn the sirens on in Morgan’s car. 

Haley uses the distraction to grab a few things, packing them away in a suitcase she’s grabbed from the closet. 

“Saski was really sad last night,” Jack says as he pouts. 

“Yeah?” You respond, picking him up and handing Haley her perfume. 

“She tried not to be sad but she was, I let her sleep with my dinosaur. Dinosaurs help people be brave.”

“Thank you, Jack, that was very kind of you.” 

Dave shuffles awkwardly and looks around like he’s trying to find something to do. You push Jack’s hair off his face, kiss his forehead, then reluctantly say:

“Jack, could you show Dave and Morgan where the dinosaur snacks are? And Mommy’s favourite secret biscuits? You can put them in a lunch box.” 

Jack nods eagerly and you let him drop to the ground and take both men’s hands. 

Haley shakes out her hands then shoves them under her armpits. “Is all this really necessary?”

“Yes,” you say simply and softly. “Haley, I’ve got no idea what happened to Aaron, but I’m telling you right now, that this guy is… Felix on steroids. And we… we stopped him, and only just, and only because we had surprise on our side, and there’s only so long luck can work for and I don’t want luck to run out because we got snarky.”

You cross the room, closing the door as you hear JJ coming up the hallway.

“I don’t want to go,” Haley says defensively.

“I know,” you respond, drawing her into a hug. “I know. But you need to be safe.”

“Are you coming?”

“I don’t know, Haley. I don’t know.”

***

You guide Haley to Aaron’s room, Jack latched onto Dave’s hand, but you don’t go any further than halfway down the corridor. It’s Emily’s face that stops you, the way she looks… well, looks like you keeping it together for Saskia only. 

“Hey,” you say softly, opening your arms to offer her a hug. She falls into it effortlessly, pressing herself as hard as she can into you.

“I should be giving you a hug,” she says at long last. “Marshall service is going to pick you and Sas and Haley and Jack up, take you somewhere safe.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you counter, suddenly realising how much you sound like Haley. 

Jack looks up at you and frowns, to which you offer him a small smile and ruffle his hair. Emily looks at him cautiously then hands you a haphazardly folded photograph of you, Haley, Jack and Saskia at a picnic. Aaron’s blood is smeared over the four of you. You just sigh and rub your eyes.

“I can’t just leave, Emily.”

“You’re not just leaving, you’re protecting yourself. Protecting Saskia.”

Which is when your daughter comes running down the hallway and barrels into you.

“This is my fault,” Saskia sobs into you. 

“Hun, this isn’t your fault,” you say softly, kissing her hair. “Saskia, listen to me. This is not your fault.”

“I should have been at home,” Saskia says. “I should have been there.”

“Sassy, this is the one time I’m not going to tell you off for not being at home.” You hug her as tight as you can, trying not to think about what would have happened if Saskia had been home before Aaron. If Emily had found Sas in his place. Shit that’s not a rabbit hole you want to go down.

“You should not have been there, Sweet Cheeks. You’re eleven, this isn’t your job. This is something Dad and I have to figure out, not you.”

She just nods and nods and nods and you just stand there rocking her.

****

Did you have a massive fight with your dad in the hallway of the hospital that every single patient heard? Absolutely. Was it all about whether you could stay with Aaron? Yes. Was it a fight you would have with Aaron if he wasn’t dealing with enough right now? Yes.

Is that why you’re walking down to the car Sam Kassmeyer’s brought up with Haley’s hand firmly grasped in yours, Saskia under one arm, your dad following up the rear. 

“Are you sure you’re not coming?” Haley asks as you open the door, Jack crawling in to the far side of the care.

“I’m staying until Aaron feels better. He’s not getting cooped up in that apartment without anyone after getting stabbed. And he’s not about to ask for help.” 

Saskia whimpers and presses her face into your stomach. You rub her back and smile at Haley. 

“The moment we catch Foyet, I’m bringing you guys home.”

“The moment Aaron Hotchner goes back to work,” your Dad corrects, “you join us. Foyet wants you too.”

“What Dad said,” you say. He squeezes your cheek before telling Jack to put his seatbelt on. 

“I want you to come with us,” Haley whispers, putting her hands over Saskia’s ears. “I need you to come with us. I don’t know how to do this.”

“No one knows how to do this,” you reassure her. “You’re coming home. We’re catching him and you’re coming home.”

Haley just nods and lets go of Saskia’s ears, staring straight into the sun to ward off the tears.

“I’ll see you soon, my little princess,” you whisper as you lower yourself to Saskia’s level. “Be good for Grandad and Haley, yeah? Look after Jack.”

“Yeah, Mom,” Saskia says thickly. “Two weeks?”

“A little bit longer,” you respond, lip quivering. “I’m so proud of you, I’ll come quicker than you can miss me.”

A lie, you both know it. 

Saskia kisses both your cheeks and squeezes you super tight. 

“I love you,” she murmurs.

“I love you too,” you whisper back. 

“Come with us,” Haley says as Saskia crawls into the car. 

“I can’t, Hales, I need to know he’s okay. But I’ll come really soon. Promise.”

“You’d better.”

You kiss her cheeks quickly, Haley catching you in the quickest lip kiss you've had in your life. You’re both acutely aware that the team are all watching.

“Come to us quickly,” Haley whispers.

“I will.”

You watch them, waving even when they can’t see you anymore, then spend a good twenty minus crying in the hospital bathroom until Emily finds you.

“It’s not too late to go with them,” Emily says as she hands you a wad of paper towel.

“Yeah, it is,” you respond simply. “But they’re safe. They’re safe.” You repeat it a couple more times like you’re trying to convince yourself of it. You repeat it enough that you’re crying again and Emily pulls you into her. “I’ve fucked up so bad,” you sob into her.

Emily rubs your back and says nothing else. “We’ll catch Foyet.”

“No we won’t,” you grumble and brush her suit jacket off. “I’m staying until Aaron’s better, then I’ll leave.”

“How much better is better?”

“When the doctor says he can lift a teapot on his own.”

“Oddly specific.”

“That’s when Aaron went back to work for me.”

“Fair.” Emily watches you in the mirror as you wash your face and take a few steadying breaths. “When did you guys get married?”

“Hm?” you frown at her reflection. “Vegas.”

“Ah.”

“Do the team know?”

“No.”

“Please don’t tell them,” you say softly. “It was a work thing and then we just… never changed it.”

“Uh huh.”

You don’t cry when you get into Aaron’s room. You just stand there, staring at him, as he stares at you, and then both of you just sit in that room. In silence. You take Aaron’s hand and squeeze it. 

It’s the most either of you can do.

****

The thirty-three days you spend with Aaron’s recovery is the longest thirty-three days of your life. Neither of you sleep for longer than a couple of hours a day, tops. You fight about nothing and everything. You sleep in Saskia’s bed. Aaron sleeps on the couch. You pretend that everything’s fine whenever the team come over.

“You need to go,” Aaron says on the thirty-third night like it means nothing. He’s hunched over the Foyet files you’ve both scattered over the dining table. You look up from the couch where you’re reading through an old Reaper file with your knees drawn up to your chest. 

“Aaron,” you argue softly but he’s not going to argue with you.

“Your bags are in the car.” He kicks the rug back over the blood stain on the carpet. “Agent Shakespeare is taking you to Saskia and your Dad.” 

“Aaron, stop, I’m staying.” You’ve had this talk a thousand times since Aaron was discharged from the hospital, but this time he seems a lot more serious than the other times.

“No you’re not.” He doesn’t raise his voice, not the way that Felix used to when he’d yell at you. But it feels like Aaron’s whole body has filled with concrete, set on this and only this. There’s no way you can break through that.

To hell if you don’t try.

“We talked about this, Aar, I’m staying, and I’m helping you and the team find Foyet.”

He braces his hands on the table. He doesn’t slam them, and yet it silences you, making your words catch in your throat. What seemed to be a casual argument suddenly seems to hold a lot more weight and you toss the file aside to the coffee table.

“You are leaving,” he tells you. “You need to be with Saskia, I’m not keeping you from her.”

“You’re not keeping me from her,” you snap back. “Foyet is keeping me from her.” You point at the files that have piled up in the lounge. “And I told you that we’re going to find that Bastard, ‘we’ being the operative word.”

“There is no ‘we’ in this equation,” Aaron says, straining to keep his voice level. “This is on me and me alone.”

“There is no ‘me alone’, Aaron,” you respond, standing and putting the sofa behind you so there’s no buffer between you and Aaron.

“Yes there is,” he says, taking his hands off the table, and crossing his arms. “You need to be with Saskia.”

“Saskia is safe, and she’s okay, and right now I’m with you.”

“THAT’S THE PROBLEM,” Aaron yells and fuck if you’re instincts don’t suddenly kick in and you’re backing away from him, keeping yourself out of reach even if, logically, you know he would never do anything. “I cannot be the one who keeps you from her. Life can’t go back to normal until we find him.”

“Which is why I’m helping,” you defend. “We’re going to find him and Hales and Jack and Sas are going to come back and it’s going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.”

“No we’re not,” Aaron says, holding your stare. “He hid for ten years. Ten years, he watched Shaunessy’s life fall apart. Where will we be in ten years? Certainly not fucking here.” He grabs a stack of files and throws them to the couch. You eye them as they twirl passed you, stepping out of the way and closer to the wall. “I’m not taking you from your daughter for ten years. She’ll be, what, twenty, twenty-one? Jack, he’ll be fourteen, fifteen, they’re not going to remember a single thing of me, or of you, so you’re going to go.”

“We don’t know that it’ll be ten years,” you respond.

“I’m not taking a single chance.” He stalks across the room, picks up your go bag that he’s filled with Saskia’s stuff. “One year, five years, ten years, fifty, you’re not going to be here. I don’t want you here.”

“Aaron, you don’t mean that,” you squeak meekly.

He throws the bag to you, which you plan to catch but at the last minute your body turns away, the bag hitting your back before it drops to the floor.

“Felix, stop,” you say before you can stop yourself. You squeeze your eyes shut and pray that Aaron didn’t hear. 

“You’re leaving,” he repeats, oblivious.

“Yeah,” you say quietly.

“I’m not arguing with you,” he says like he hasn’t heard you. He leaves the room and you listen to something shuffle around, things falling, moving around, and then he comes back with his favourite duffle bag. You remember him buying it with his first paycheck.

“Aar, these are Saskia’s lights. We’re coming back.” You pull them out, holding them out to him.

“I can’t,” he says and those two words are the most open he’s been in the last thirty-four days. “Saskia was supposed to be at home. The plane was late and we fought about it and she went to Haley’s house because she was mad at me, but then she was mad at Haley and she left without her keys and that’s the only reason she wasn’t here when he was. If anything was different that day it would have been her where I was.”

God, the way Aaron spirals. You hadn’t thought of it that way before. You wish you hadn’t just now.

“The last thing I ever did with Saskia is fight with her, she couldn’t even look at me before she left.”

With that you let the fairy lights drop to the ground and you grab his hand, pulling him to you.

“Aaron, listen to me, Saskia couldn’t look at you because she was scared. She couldn’t even look at a knife block before you got stabbed, and beyond anything she blames herself for fighting with you.” You cup his face to keep him looking at you. “And the last thing you told her before she left was that you were proud of her, and that’s all she needed to hear.”

He just shakes his head. “All she’s going to remember is that I yelled at her.”

“No she won’t,” you reassure him. “She won’t remember a single bad thing about you. Neither of them will. You’re their superhero, trust me.”

He closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you say softly. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he murmurs. “I do want you here, but I… I can’t.”

“Me too.”

He pulls you into his chest, encapsulating you into a hug that’s so strong you’re not sure how you’re still breathing.

“You have to go while Foyet’s not watching,” he says into your hair. “I just need to know you’re safe. I can’t sleep thinking you might go to get milk or painkillers or something I could survive without and not come back. Thank you for staying, though. I needed it.”

“Anytime,” you mumble as the tears burn at your eyes. “Leaving feels like giving up.”

“It’s not forever,” he says even though you both don’t believe it. “Shakespeare’s downstairs.”

“Okay,” you sniff, pulling back and blinking away the tears stinging at your eyes, turning away from Aaron so he can’t see, but he catches it and wipes your cheeks. You let him before turning away entirely and go to the dining table, moving the papers around until you find your engagement ring and slipping it on.

“We’re coming back,” you say firmly. “We’re coming back to you.”

Aaron doesn’t say anything back. He just storms across the room, grabs the back of your head, and crashes his lips to yours. It’s all teeth, and emotion, and far from careful, it’s every single moment he wishes you had. Trying to make up for every moment you should have had. Trying, desperately, to encapsulate every ‘I love you’ that you’re going to miss. 

You both stumble into the wall, Aaron pressing your back up against it so you’re practically pinned. You wrap a leg around him and he complies, lifting you. But there’s not time to do anything more.

You know that.

He knows that.

You’re both just prolonging the inevitable. 

The landline rings twice then hangs up. It’s Shakespeare, you both know it. 

“I don’t want to go,” you whine. 

“You have to,” he whispers, hand curling against the back of your head as he presses his forehead against yours. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you whisper back as though if you say it any louder it’ll no longer be a conversation between the two of you. Like there’s other people living in this apartment.

“Are we saving them?” he says, closing his eyes.

“Yeah, we’re saving Jack and Hales.”

“I mean the ‘I love yous’, until this is over.” 

Which sets you off crying again, shaking your head. “Not this time,” you murmur through tears. “We say it so we remember what we’re coming back for.”

Aaron nods, his cheeks wet with tears, and fuck you wish you didn’t have to leave him like this. 

“I love you,” you tell him, wiping at his cheeks with your hands. “There is nothing in the world that can stop that from being true.” 

He stops for a moment, taking in your words, you can watch him storing it away in his brain behind closed eyes.

“I love you,” he returns. 

Your eyes close softly and you lean your forehead on his. Also storing the way he says it, the way it feels with his breath so close to your face. The way his whole body says it, not just his voice. 

The phone rings again and you can feel Shakespeare’s impatience in it. 

“I have to go,” you whisper, dropping your face into his neck.

“Yeah.”

He lets you down slowly, touches lingering. You pick up your go bag, kicking Aaron’s duffle bag out of the way.

“You keep that for when we come back. Put her lights back up, she’ll never forgive you if she came back and found her unicorns missing.” 

“Okay,” he says softly.

There’s a small, yellow, bunny that doesn’t quite fit in your go bag and you tug at its ear. You inspect it when it’s pulled free, smiling at it’s little pastel blue, pink and purple paws. Aaron bought it for Saskia when she was born, Haley buying the matching onesie that’s been lost to time.

“Keep this,” you whisper, handing it to him. “We’ll come back for it. Doesn’t matter how long it takes.”

Aaron just holds it to his chest, dropping his head so he can breathe it in. 

“We’ll be back before you know it, and this place will be the happiest you’ve ever had it,” you promise. “I’ll see you when this is all over. We have a wedding to be the stars of.”

Then you open the door, leaving him crying into the rabbit and flee down the stairs until you get to Shakespeare’s car.

He says nothing, just hands you a box of tissues and a blanket.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You just pull your knees up to your chest, throw the blanket over your head, and sob into your knees until you can’t cry anymore.

****

Moments before Prentiss comes to pick him up, he remembers.

He remembers what he missed. 

The bag he overshot in anger, aimed to land at your feet but it goes too far. The words he doesn’t hear because he’s too overwhelmed, too angry, he just wants you to go to Saskia, to keep her safe. He was too busy trying to make you leave to see the way you cowered, to hear the way you’d told him to stop. 

Not just him, but Felix. He let himself get so out of control that he didn’t even notice. 

Which just convinces him that he really is the worst person ever. 

Haley hates him for making her leave.

Saskia hates him for arguing with her.

You hate him for being what you left.

Jack’s too young to hate him, but he will.

One day. Just like Aaron hates his own father.

Prentiss texts him that she’s coming upstairs and he glances around the room. There’s two cups of tea on the table, one with your lipstick on it because you’d wanted to feel like a human being for a moment and put it on, only to put it straight on the cup. One of your sweaters is poking out from beneath the couch, caught under the boxes and boxes of files. He doesn’t want to move either of them, or make his place seem more presentable. 

He hasn’t slept, he spent most of the time crying and beating himself up because this is his fault. He knows it’s his fault. 

No one else is to blame, except for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~A. Foyet totally got into the apartment because he stole Saskia's set of keys.   
> B. HA Hotch getting stabbed happened so soon oopsies~
> 
> What a whrlwind we've just gone through.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a short one for today

Billy pops the door to the car open before he’s fully stopped. You’re out of the car before he’s even put it in park. Saskia’s running out the door, even with the marshall yelling after her, wearing one of Haley’s velvet pink jackets. You catch her as she launches herself into your arms, wrapping her legs around your waist. 

Oh boy, does she cry. Each sob is muffled by your skin, and it’s a miracle that she can breathe at all with the grip you’ve got on the back of her head. You blink back your own tears, rocking her and murmuring to her quietly. She’s mostly incoherent, gripping you so tight that you’re sure that she’ll morph into your body. 

Shakespeare places his hand on your lower back lightly, guiding you towards the house.

“You can go home,” you tell him softly, but he shakes his head.

“Told Hotch I’d have eyes on all of you before I left.”

You don’t have time to ask him ‘we?’ because you’re greeted by Jack wrapping himself around your knees. Haley gasps when she sees you and you honestly think she might cry. 

“Come here,” you say softly and Haley just nods over and over again and you pull her into the hug. Jack tugs at Haley’s leg and she takes a moment to break the hug and lift Jack up so you’re all a big, squishy, group hug. 

Haley teeters on the edge of crying so you just hold her close until she can pull herself together enough to look strong for the kids. 

“Is Aaron okay?” Haley asks quietly as she sets Jack down. 

“He’s okay, he’s back at work,” you tell her. Saskia looks up from your neck, eyes raw and red. “Dad sent some of your toys, Little Miss. Jack’s too,” you say to Haley.

“He’s really okay?” Saskia says as you let her down to the ground. “He’s not in the hospital?”

“Nope, all back at work,” you give her a brave smile as you push her hair off her face. “You’re going to need a haircut very soon, Precious.”

“I don’t even get to go to school, I can’t just cut my hair.”

“I can cut it later,” you offer. “Where’s grandad?”

“Kitchen, he’s making fried rice. Do you want to talk to Auntie Haley? Me and Jack can go help him.”

“Yeah, go on.” You watch her run off, grabbing Jack’s hand on her way through. “Has she been okay?” Haley nods her head. “Have you been okay?” Haley shakes her head, her lip quivering.

“Thirty-three days is a really long time,” Haley says weakly. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” You genuinely mean it. 

Haley looks away from you and blinks rapidly to avoid crying. You gather her up in your arms, cradling her face against your shoulder. 

“God, you don’t need to put up with this,” Haley mumbles against your shoulder. 

“I do, and I missed you,” you assure her. “Thank-you for doing the impossible.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Neither do I,” you confess. “Lots of park visits and colouring books and… flower pressing. I saw a garden out front.”

“They don’t let us out front,” Haley grumbles.

“Yeah, and being told what to do by the fucking marshall service.”

The agent standing by your door frowns at you. You smile at him and wave. Haley smiles, finally, and you tuck her safely under your arm and wander into the kitchen. When your dad sees you he grabs your face in a very David Rossi fashion and kisses both your cheeks loudly. 

“How is he?” he asks and you glance at the kids. Saskia’s cutting up the bacon carefully, glancing at Jack who’s helping with an incredibly blunt knife.

“Back at work,” you answer. It’s a good enough answer for him because he returns to dinner.

After dinner Haley shows you around the house. It’s not too big, but it’s way bigger than anything you’d ever stayed at with Sas. Your dad has the front room, a chair pulled up beneath it like he’s sat and watched the road instead of sleeping. Maybe he has.

Haley’s room is across from Jack and Saskia’s. There’s a baby monitor attached to the wall with a livestream to both rooms. Saskia’s got fairy lights up around her bed and Jack’s filled his with dinosaurs. Your room is next to Haley’s with a little adjoining door so you can effortlessly go between the two rooms.

“Does this work?” you ask, pointing at the TV mounted on Haley’s wall.

“Yeah. No free to air. It’s uh, all DVD and video. They don’t have Grease.”

“We’ll find a copy of Grease,” you assure her, squeezing her hand. “Feel like not getting a wink of sleep because Sas and Jack keep kicking us?”

“Yeah. The movie choice is pretty shit, even the kids agree.”

“I just want to see them.”

Billy knocks lightly at the door. He gives you a lopsided, cocky, smile that you know he’s only putting on for Haley.

“Hey Love,” he says, coaxing an even thicker British accent than usual out of his mouth. “I’m about to head out.”

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you smile. “Look after the team while I’m gone, yeah?”

“Anything.” Billy runs his hand over his beard. “Listen, I’m gonna see what I can do about getting you guys into a community.”

“The marshall service will never allow it,” you return.

“I know,” he says. “Can’t hurt to try.” 

He kisses his hand and presses it to your cheek. His fingers are crazy cold, but his palm feels like it’s on fire.

“Look after them,” he says.

“Keep an eye on Aaron for me.”

“Yeah. Might let ‘im give me a shiner.” He gives you a sarcastic smile. “Nice to meet you, Haley.”

Then he’s leaving with his coat billowing behind him. 

Your dad sleeps on the couch, gun within reach. You and Haley don’t sleep, but you’ve got Jack wedged between the two of you and Saskia under your arm. Whatever movie you’d put on was suitably shitty, but the title menu has music that keeps Jack and Saskia asleep. Both of them sleep with their thumbs shoved in their mouths but you can’t find it in yourself to care enough to correct it. 

“How’s Aaron?” Haley asks. “Really.”

“He’s okay, Hales. Self loathing, obsessed, not going to stop until we’re home. But he’s okay.”

“You look like you had a fight with him.”

“Most days,” you whisper, watching Jack carefully as his eyes flutter. “Haven’t slept longer than a couple of hours since he was discharged. Don’t even sleep in the same bed. But we’re okay.”

Haley reaches over Jack and takes your hand. 

“I love you,” she says. 

“I love you too, Hales.”

“We’ll get home for your wedding.”

You snort and Jack tosses himself onto his stomach. 

“We’ll get home,” you agree. 

But home for the wedding? Probably not.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know we didn't do a lot for Saskia's birthday but IT'S JACK'S BIRTHDAY.

Birthdays in witness protection are the worst.

You and Haley don’t have the heart to explain to Jack that Aaron can’t send him a present because they’re hiding (from a bad guy, not from dad) so you buy a pack of Transformers and write a brilliantly forged card that looks just like Aaron’s handwriting.

Saskia knows. 

She’ll keep her mouth shut.

Billy managed to actually get you guys into a community. Only because Sam vouches for you. Sam doesn’t have the exact location but he calls every week. Billy sends live streams of them at the park to Garcia and you know Aaron’s watched them. You and Haley haven’t slept alone in months. It’s not like the kids can’t sleep (although, every Friday night you all sleep in the same bed and watch movies), but it’s just that something in you doesn’t feel right whenever you’re sleeping alone.

You’re both woken by Jack launching himself onto the bed at 5am. Haley makes an exaggerated “ooff” sound despite the two of you having been awake since four when Jack decided to run up and down the hallway and feel every single present in the lounge.

“I think it’s someone’s birthday today,” you say, frowning like you’re trying to remember who’s it is.

“Me too,” Haley agrees. “I can’t think of who. Somebody important.”

“Maybe Teddy Roosevelt’s birthday?”

“That must be it.”

Jack can’t get the smile off his face as he grabs both your faces with his tiny, tiny hands and shakes his head.

“MINE!” he yells.

“No way,” you gasp and Jack nods excitedly, his hair flopping all over his face. “The most important boy in this world’s birthday is today! Happy birthday!!” you say excitedly as Haley pulls him into her lap and puts kisses all over his face. 

“Saski’s making pancakes,” Jack says as he tries to escape Haley’s arms. “Gramps is helping.”

And despite WITSEC feeling like the worst time of your life, you smile. You know Jack’s only calling him “Gramps” because no one in the house ever uses his name (Saskia’s fault, honestly) but like… it still makes you happy. Feels like you’re all one big, squishy, family.

“Hugs,” Jack says as he wiggles out of Haley’s arms and launches himself into your arms. You squeeze him tight and press loud, wet, kisses all over his face. “Daddy sent me a present. Can we send him a video?”

“Sure,” Haley smiles and pushes his hair back from his face. “Are we going to go have breakfast?”

“Yup, yup, yup,” Jack says as he stands, runs across the mattress, and launches himself off the bed into the hallway.

“Congratulations on giving birth four years ago to the most precious human being,” you tell Haley, kissing her temple. 

“He’s so big,” Haley says quietly. 

“Wait until he’s Saskia’s size,” you whisper dramatically. 

“He’ll never be that big, nuh uh,” Haley responds as she flings her legs over the side of the bed and feeling around for her slippers. 

“One day he’s going to be taller than you and trying to figure out how to fix his car engine.”

“Ew,” Haley laughs, remembering how that was every other week with Aaron in highschool. 

You both meander out to the kitchen where your dad is holding Jack over the pancakes and letting him flip them. Saskia waves when you guys walk in, holding the bottle of syrup.

“Syrup?” she asks, hovering the bottle over a plate of pancakes. 

“Sure,” you both say and Saskia nods, dumping syrup onto the pancakes. 

Saskia pulls her chair closer to yours as you eat breakfast, resting her head on your arm as she cuts her pancake into tiny, tiny pieces. She pushes them around her plate for a bit, engaging Jack in conversation like it’ll distract you from noticing she isn’t eating, then she puts her fork down, rummages around the fridge, and dumps some strawberries on top of her pancakes.

She smiles at you and, only then, does she start eating. 

“You doing okay, Pumpkin?” you whisper when Jack goes to set up his presents. 

“Yeah,” Saskia says non-convincingly. “Can we make Jack a really big cake? Or a cheesecake? Or something to make him happy?”

“Him happy or you happy?”

“Both.”

“What kind of cake?”

“Rainbow.”

You squeeze her knee and nod. “Easy.”

“I miss Dad,” she says quietly. “But I’m not going to tell Jack.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s his birthday, he should be happy.” She finishes her plate, shoving all the pancakes and strawberries into her mouth. “Present time!”

When all the presents are open, Jack’s practically buried in wrapping. The Transformers win best present by far, he carries them everywhere with him. The Marshall service takes Jack to the park, sending a video to Garcia. You and Saskia pick up the ingredients for two rainbow cakes (one, a rainbow cheesecake. The other, a normal (rainbow) cake). There’s a small bookshop on the way back to the car that you almost pass but Saskia tugs your hand.

“Can we?” she asks softly. 

You check your wallet, seeing if you have enough cash, then nod. 

Saskia goes through every shelf meticulously, running her fingers over the spine of every single book. She picks out a book with an incredibly beautiful hardcover and holds it out to you.

“That’s a very big book,” you say softly, taking it from her. “War and Peace? This is a lot to read.”

“Spence said he’d read it to me after Canada.” She bounces on her heels. You fill in what she hasn’t said. 

She can read it and pretend Spence read it to her. You push her hair back off her face and kiss her head. 

“Want to find something for Jack, too? Something with pictures.”

Saskia nods and busies herself finding books until she finds a collection of Hairy Maclary books. You get them and Saskia hugs them close to her chest the whole time back to the house. She puts her book in her room before she joins Jack in the lounge, wrapping the books in discarded wrapping paper before handing it to him.

Haley’s curled up on the couch, hugging her knees to herself, while faking smiles for Jack whenever he turns to her. You climb onto the couch with her, wedging yourself between the back of the sofa and Haley, wrapping your arms around her. 

“Hey Sweetness,” you say into Haley’s hair. “You doing okay?”

“Mhmm,” Haley mumbles unconvincingly. Your dad joins the kids, nodding to you as if to say he’s got it.

“Want to help me bake a cake?”

Haley shakes her head then nods, lifting herself from the couch and smiling weakly at you, patting your hip. You share a small smile with her before you both go to the kitchen. To start, neither of you say anything you just measure and mix and pour into pans. 

“Are you doing okay?” Haley asks as she hands you a spoon and holds out the bowl of chocolate batter.

“Yup,” you say dismissively as you put the cake into the oven and take the spoon from her.

“No you’re not,” she says. You don’t meet her eyes. “You didn’t sleep last night. When you were sleeping I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so restless.”

You look at her softly, because glaring is too harsh, and shove the spoon into your mouth to avoid answering her. Haley grabs a belt loop on her pants and tugs you close to her. 

“I get being strong for the kids, but I’m not the kids,” Haley says softly. “You’re allowed to not be okay. This is a lot.”

“I left the bureau to avoid this,” you tell her. “I sold my house and moved back in with dad and told myself I wouldn’t do anything to put Saskia through this again. And now we’re here.”

“Together,” Haley whispers. “We’re here together.”

“But you shouldn’t have to be here at all,” you whine. 

“But we are,” Haley says, booping you on the nose with her spoon. “We’re here together, you’re not doing this alone anymore.”

You don’t cry, but you’re close to it. Haley just hands you the bowl again and offers you the tiniest smile. It’s not brave. It’s solidarity. Because, yeah, you’re not doing this alone anymore. And you’re better for it. 

“I don’t know what I would have done if you never turned up. If this happened and I had to do it alone.” She says it so distractedly that you wonder how many times she thought it through. “I know you’ve done this before, but I can’t imagine it’s any easier the second time through.” 

“They won’t let me get my files,” you sigh. “And I know, I know, I should use this time to exist with you, and Jack, and Sas, this is like unprecedented time off where I don’t have to worry about anything except a--” you glance towards the lounge to where you can see Jack watching you both intently-- “really bad guy eating all my cookies, but I can’t concentrate. I want to work so he’s gone and then bundle you all up and ship us off to the Bahamas for a decade.”

“Aaron would hate that,” Haley smirks. “He hates sand.”

“It’s coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere,” you say, not only quoting Aaron’s least favourite Star Wars movie, but also quoting Aaron. You snort and run your finger around the rim of the bowl. “After I got these scars,” you say dramatically and Haley snorts, “Aaron and I said we were going to kidnap the kids if they ever so much as sneezed in the direction of the FBI as a career.”

“Yeah?” Haley asks, sitting up on the kitchen bench.

“At first it was going to be a Texan kidnapping, but then we changed it to Georgian so you would have a fresh supply of peaches for your sweet tea and we’d all keep the kids far, far, away from solving crimes.”

“We should do that,” Haley says seriously, crossing her legs. “But we’d have to kidnap Aaron.”

“I’d say middle of the night, but he’s got a new security system. I had to talk him out of fingerprint identification because, I too, would like to get into my home,” you scratch at your hair, like you’re genuinely thinking about the way you could both kidnap him. “The office would be the easiest way to go.”

“Kidnapping Aaron Hotchner, out of a federal building, would be easier than kidnapping him out of his own home?”

“Absolutely. We’d just have to tell the team ‘sorry, he’s never coming back to work’. They’d get it.”

“would Aaron get it, though?” Haley teases. You shake your head. 

“We’d have to lock him in a basement for months. Years, even.”

“Until he’s old, grey, and unable to fight back,” you add.

“And what might you two be planning over here,” your dad says as he meanders in. “Chocolate cake?”

“Mhmm,” you say, handing him the bowl. “Planning the kidnapping of Aaron Hotchner.”

“Don’t say that too loudly, the walls have ears,” he winks at both you and Haley. “Sedate him first. Distract him with the kids and then jab him in the neck with a needle.”

“Thanks Dad,” you groan. He shrugs. 

“He’d be a bit of a dead weight, you’re better off getting him to a morgue on a case, using a gurney.”

“You haven’t thought of this at all, have you?”

“Only every day since he broke his leg falling through my daughter’s bathroom window.”

“That’s fair,” Haley says quietly. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

“Absolutely,” your dad says, squeezing Haley’s arm. “I don’t believe that boy has it in him to not be okay.”

“Yeah,” Haley murmurs unconvincingly. “I hope you’re right.”

“I’m always right, you know that,” he says as he pinches her cheek. “Now, Jack and Saskia are watching a movie. Shakespeare rang while you lot were out and said he was bringing Lakhi with him, said he was sorry he couldn’t do anything for Jack but that he’d bring some toys. And a bloke called Butcher?”

“Dog,” you correct. “Adorable little thing, don’t worry,” you convey to Haley. 

***

Butcher loves Haley.

He follows her around everywhere, fluffy tan tail high in the air, his tongue rolling out his mouth, yipping every time he gets a pat. Lakhi loves Jack, and Jack’s birthday is better for it. 

After cake Billy take you outside onto the back porch, lights a cigarette (when he started smoking, you have no idea), blows the smoke into the night air and sighs.

“I know you want to keep Haley from all this, but we need to discuss what happens if Foyet finds you,” he says. “The kind of shit we don’t want to do. What we tell the kids they need to do.”

You draw your knees up to your chest and sigh. “Saskia’s already found places to hide.”

“Jack hasn’t done this before,” Shakespeare says, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“Those things will kill you,” you tell him.

“I’m well aware,” he responds. “So will Foyet.”

“Can you stop saying his name.”

“He’s not Voldemort.”

“I don’t want his name said here.”

“Okay.” Shakespeare holds out the cigarette to you and you shake your head. “You need to make sure Saskia stays.”

You know he’s telling you that the stint Saskia played with the baseball bat and Felix won’t fly. You know it won’t. Felix didn’t hurt her because… well, you’d like to believe it’s because she’s your daughter. The both of yours. You like to believe there was a bit of him that loved her.

“I know.” 

“If she needs to feel like she’s doing something, tell her Jack is her priority.” He turns his face downhill and blows out his smoke. “But they need to stay away from this guy.”

“I know, Shakespeare,” you say sternly. “I was there.”

“I’m not saying this to be mean.”

“I know you’re not.”

“I got that de Silva kid on Hotchner watch,” Shakespeare says.

“Aaron’s already got people watching him.”

Shakespeare swirls his finger as if to round up the whole house. “Hotchner watch. You’re all Hotchners. Too hard to say all your names.”

“Funny.”

“How good is the lil’ tyke at taking orders?”

You sigh and bang your head on your knees. “He’s a kid, Benjamin, he’ll do whatever the adults he trusts tells them to do.”

Shakespeare jumps a little at your use of his birth name. “You need to make sure he knows not to trust the bad guys.”

“He does.” 

“What do we need to tell Jack?” Haley asks quietly from the back door. You jump, dropping your legs to the ground guiltily.

“What to do if He finds us,” you say and Shakespeare turns his face away from you like he’s looking for something.

“But he’s not,” Haley says and you can hear the way her fear hitches in her voice. “That’s why we’re here, that’s why we left!”

Shit you fucked up. “Haley,” you say softly, reaching out to her. “Come here, I’ll explain.” She grabs your fingers weakly as she approaches you. She stands there for a moment, swaying slightly, then she perches herself on your lap. You take her hands in yours, holding them close to your chest as she shakes.

“This is not because we are not safe,” you tell her in, admittedly, your Mom voice. “This is a preventative measure. If anything goes wrong, anything at all, we need to know the kids are safe.”

“The kids always come before us,” Haley says as though offended that you’ve suggested something else.

“I know, that’s what we’re talking about.”

“Why didn’t you involve me?”

“Haley, baby, it’s only because this is my job. Shakespeare’s my little minion.”

“I am not your minion,” Shakespeare coughs, smoke billowing out his nose.

“Yes you are,” Haley says without breaking eye contact with you. “You need to tell me these things. We can’t play protection like this. Before, with Aaron, I didn’t want to know because it was every other week and he was choosing to go into it. We didn’t choose this, he’s coming to us, and we need to make sure our families are safe.”

“Okay,” you say, nodding. “I’m sorry I sidelined you, I will involve you in these conversations.”

“Very diplomatic of you,” Haley says.

“It’s true.”

“So what do we do?” Haley asks. 

“Cig?” Shakespeare asks, holding out the cigarette. Haley nods and takes a long draught from the cigarette and holds the smoke.

“Never let the kids out of your sight if you’re not in immediate danger,” Shakespeare says as he takes the cigarette back. “You don’t separate yourself from them. Not unless you know they’re truly safe. Never tell them to run. Always make them feel you’re still safe. That they’re safe.”

“This guy thrives off fear,” you add. “Weakness and fear, that’s what he eats up. It’s all he wants. He wants reactions.”

“Don’t show him anything you wouldn’t show Jack,” Shakespeare says. 

“Don’t show him compassion, though,” you say quickly. “This guys a bastard and a serial killer.”

“According to the profile, he won’t physically harm anyone under a teenager. He’ll make them watch, but he won’t kill them,” Shakespeare says. “To be perfectly blunt, that does not rule out Saskia.”

“I know,” you murmur quietly and Haley blows out her smoke, wrapping her arms around your neck. “Hales, if this happens it’s not going to be fun.”

“I know.” 

“The wardrobe in your bedroom has a false back,” Shakespeare says. “It’ll barely fit Jack and Saskia, but it will if need be. As with the pantry in the kitchen.”

Haley just nods and shuffles in your lap, sliding down until you’re practically cradling her.

“They’re going to be okay. We’re going to be okay,” you whisper into her ear as she buries her face into your shoulder. Shakespeare watches the two of you for a second then nods. 

“I brought some files with me,” he says. “I couldn’t get images cleared but I got some written files.”

“Thank you,” Haley breathes like it’s meant for her. “She’s been so restless, my goodness.”

Shakespeare snorts and shakes his head. “That does sound about right. Your dad took the files, he said you can have them in the morning when Jack and Saskia start home school.”

“If he doesn’t give them to me, I’ll fight him.”

Haley giggles for the first time in a long time and straightens herself up, kissing your cheek. 

“Speaking of the kids,” Haley says. “I’m going to put Jack to bed.”

She stands, fingers lingering on your shoulders as she says bye to Shakespeare then heads inside. 

“You two are close,” Shakespeare says.

“Yup,” you say back.

He throws his cigarette to the porch and stomps it out. “You’ll talk to her, right? Code words, all that stuff?” 

“Yeah, I’ll talk to her. When it’s not…” you motion out into the darkness. 

“Zero dark hundred.” He rubs his beard and sighs. “I should head home. Four hour drive doesn’t seem like a lot until you’re driving it.”

“Take some carbonara for the trip, Dad made too much for Jack’s birthday.”

“Okay,” he stands and holds an arm out to you to help you to your feet. “I’m sorry that this happened to you,” Billy says as he brushes his coat down.

“Me too.”

****

“We’re going to be okay, right?” Saskia asks as you tuck her into bed. 

“Absolutely,” you whisper, kissing her forehead.

“Okay,” she nods and shifts. You frown as something that isn’t a toy shifts with her.

“What’ve you got, Missy?” you ask, pulling the bedsheets back. She looks sheepish as you pull out one of Aaron’s jumpers. You don’t have it in you to tell her off, you just smile and tell her to put her arms up, pulling the jumper over her head.

“Jack’s got one too,” Saskia says. “They were in the bag you brought with you.” 

She’s completely engulfed in it, the arms are too long, the body just a big potato sack. But she looks precious, and happy, and the jumper still smells like Aaron. 

“We’ll be home soon,” you tell her.

“I know,” Saskia says dismissively. “But it could be ten years too and then these jumpers won’t smell like Dad.”

“It won’t be ten years.”

“Can I read until I’m tired?” She pulls out her book, dropping the brick onto her lap. You nod, smiling softly at her. 

You’re at the door when she calls you back.

“Mom? If the guy who hurt Dad comes, I won’t try and hurt him,” she says. You frown and come back to the bed, perching yourself on the mattress. “I know I have to stay quiet and hidden and make sure he doesn’t find me and Jack.”

“Good girl,” you whisper, rubbing her arm. “You didn’t do the wrong thing with your dad, Hun, you did what needed to be done.”

“He’s not my dad,” Saskia says grumpily. “He tried to kill me.”

Honestly, you can’t argue with that, so you just hug her close to you. 

“If Foyet tries to hurt Jack I’ll shoot him,” Saskia says. “Or put a plastic bag over his head.”

“Baby, don’t,” you whisper, squeezing her. “It is not your job to hurt him. If anything happens, if he comes here, if he hurts anyone, you are not to stay. You are to get out, that’s the only thing you need to do.”

“But Jack--”

“No,” you say. “Jack will be safe.”

“When can we leave if he comes?”

“Sassy, he’s not coming here.”

“Lakhi’s dad told you he was.”

“No, he didn’t, he just wants to make sure that we’re all safe if something bad happens.”

Saskia huffs. 

“You have one job, Sassy.” She looks up at you and you continue. “You and Jack, if he comes, need to stay quiet and hidden. It might take hours, but you need to make sure he’s not here and he’s not watching before you leave. And if any adults come, you do not--do not--get out unless you know who they are.”

“Hide. Protect Jack. Don’t put ourselves in danger. Got it.”

“Good girl,” you whisper, kissing her forehead.

“And we don’t leave for anything,” Saskia says. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” you agree.

“Okay,” she says. “Can I still read?”

“Mhmm, just until nine.” You point at the clock on her bedside table and Saskia nods.

“Night, Mommy,” she says as she opens ‘War and Peace’, running her fingers along the pages.

“Night, Saski.” You press a long, lingering kiss to her hair before leaving and half shutting the door.

****

You and Haley attempt to sleep in your own rooms.

It doesn’t work.

Midnight comes and you’re about to roll out of bed to check on the kids and Haley when your door creaks open and Haley tiptoes into your room, crawling onto your mattress like she’s one of the kids.

“I can’t sleep,” she whispers when she realises that you’re awake. She puts the monitor with the livestream of Jack’s room on the bedside table.

“Neither,” you whisper back as she snuggles into you.

“Stay awake together?” Haley whispers.

“Stay awake together,” you confirm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yup i'm already stressed about the future.  
> Also i feel like mom and haley are teetering on the edge of sleeping (smexy time sleeping) together for just -release- if things keep getting thrown at them but like neither of them want to do anything because they're not the ones in a relationship.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Alexa, play 'Songbird' by Fleetwood Mac~  
> ~there is a lot going on here~

“Daddy, look!” Jack says excitedly, holding up his Transformers. Saskia’s got the camera propped precariously on her knees, reading War and Peace with her finger tracing under each line.

You and Haley are sitting on a picnic rug in the backyard, under a large tree, sipping at the iced tea she made. One of the guards--not guards, might as well be guards--is sitting watching the four of you with a furrowed brow. Your dad’s washing aprons by hand, you’re not sure why, but you guess it’s because he feels as useless as everyone else does.

“Saski and I have your hoodies,” Jack says as he puts his Transformers down and feels around the grass for something else. “Mom and Ammi said we can’t bring them outside, we have to keep them clean.”

“Y/N is Ammi!” Haley yells, making Saskia jump and she almost drops the camera. 

It kind of happened overnight, one day Jack decided he would ‘share moms’ and ‘Ammi’ became a mix between Aunty and Mom. Even Saskia’s taken to calling Haley her ‘Ammi’. It’s going to be interesting to explain when you’re all back home. A small price to pay for all of your safety.

“Aunty Y/N is Ammi,” Jack agrees while he’s nodding. “Aunty Mom!” He picks up his books of Hairy Mclary and holds them up triumphantly. “From Ammi and Saski! I’m saving S-Swink-Slin-Saski?”

“Slinky Malinky,” Saskia says distractedly.

“Yeah, I’m saving the cat ones for you Daddy.” He sections them all out into Slinky and Hairy, then holds the Slinky ones up. “Gramps read Scarface Claw.”

The camera chirps and Jack sighs.

“Battery?” he says, disheartened.

“Yeah,” Saskia says softly. “Sorry Jack. 2 minutes!”

So Jack sums up his birthday week (“Week!” Jack says excitedly too many times) with seconds to spare before the camera dies and Saskia actually looks upset about it as she packs the camera away and writes a note on her hand to move the video over to a USB to give to the marshalls to give to Aaron (which is as much as a handful as it sounds). You don’t have the heart to tell them that he won’t see them until you’re all home.

Saskia drags out the bucket of tonka trucks that’s always been in the house before Jack can fully take in that he’s just finished “talking” to dad. 

Haley sighs and rests her head on your shoulder as Jack decides the trucks can fly with the transformers, taking your hand in hers and closing her eyes as she drops her head to your shoulder. 

“How are the files going?” Haley asks. 

“Shit,” you confess. “I’m just rereading information I already know.”

“Can you tell me things?” she whispers. “Things I need to know.” 

“Sure,” you whisper back, kissing her head. “When the kids are asleep I’ll tell you everything.”

“Thank-you,” she says as she shuffles closer and closer to you. You wrap an arm around her and pull her gently into you, making sure she’s nestled safely into you. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when I don’t get to see you everyday.”

You let out a short bark of laughter. “You think you’re going to get away with not seeing me everyday? Sweetcheeks, Saskia’s going to demand Jack time everyday.” You squeeze Haley’s shoulders. “You’re not getting rid of me that quick.”

“Aaron might hate that.”

“We got threatened by a serial killer, he got stabbed, he can get over it.”

Saskia nods eagerly and you’re left to wonder whether she’s listening or agreeing with Jack. Either way it seems fitting. 

***

“You are getting tall,” Haley says as Saskia passes her in the kitchen. Saskia smiles and keeps going, Haley catching her by the back of her jacket and pulls her back to her. “Look at this.”

Haley puts her hand on top of Saskia’s head, trying to squash her, but she’s at Haley’s shoulder and there’s no denying that. 

“You are getting tall,” you agree and Saskia bends her knees so she’s squatting.

“Better?” Saskia grumbles, but she smiles just a little. 

“We’ll have to get you some new clothes soon,” you tell her, kissing her hair. 

“Can I get a big swooshy jacket?”

“If we find one on your size, sure.”

Saskia nods excitedly, weasels her way out of Haley’s arm, and goes out to Jack. They’re making claymation figurines with your dad, mainly just copying Wallace & Gromit, although you do note that Saskia’s are far closer to something out of a Tim Burton movie.

“Oh, look what I found today.” Haley digs through the plastic shopping bag of dinner stuff before brandishing a Deluxe copy of Fleetwood Mac’s… Fleetwood Mac. “All my favourite songs.”

“Your favourite song is Don’t Stop Believing by Journey and it is not on those CD’s,” you say judgmentally. It was the only song you could get to work in her car’s cassette player. 

“But Songbird and Landslide and Rhiannon and--”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, swatting Haley away as she gets closer and closer to you and keeps naming the song list. “I get it. There’s a CD player in the bedroom that works.”

“I know there is,” she says proudly. 

“And what’s for dinner, then miss Fleetwood Mac lover?”

“Grilled chicken burgers with,” she picks up a bag, “spiky lettuce, dubbed by your daughter, and the good onions, dubbed by my son.”

“And I see turkish rolls?”

“Your dad’s request.”

“Yum,” you say, peeking into the bag. 

“Uh, uh, uh, hands off.”

“Yes ma’am,” you grin.

****

Haley has a notebook full of questions that you answer once the kids are in bed. (And asleep). She leaves once all her questions are answered, ripping up the pages as she goes, leaving you on the couch with one of the many books you’ve got in the pre-stocked bookshelf.

“You should get out more often,” your dad says as he takes a seat across from you.

“I leave the house,” you respond defensively, dropping the book into your lap.

“This place is safe, you know that, that’s why Agent Shakespeare got us here.”

“I know.”

“So go on a walk every once and awhile, take Haley and Saskia and Jack with you. There’s a park down the road they’d like. You’re not getting anywhere with the files, the kids and Haley need you.”

“I should be working this case,” you say softy. “I should be bringing you guys home.” 

“If I had my way, that Hotchner boy would be here with us until this Foyet bloke is dead.”

“His name is Aaron, and we’re getting married so you should probably start calling him by his name.”

“While we’re all here and he’s out there I’ll call him whatever I want,” he says, waving you off. “When this is all over I’ll call him whatever he wants me to call him.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“I know.” He mutters something that you don’t quite hear. “Are you sure that you want to marry him?”

“Yes.”

“There are a thousand men in the world, why him?”

“Dad—“

“He’s a kid you knew in highschool, he got divorced, this happens when you’re around him.”

“Dad this is a one off thing.”

“Is it though?”

“Yes! You know it is!”

“I know it’s the second time my daughter, and granddaughter, has gone into WITSEC in eleven years. And that my granddaughter is all too familiar with the process.”

You glare at him but your response is cut short when there’s a crash and Haley groans from the bathroom and you can hear her kicking things around.

“I’ll check on her,” you say, throwing your book to the seat cushions. 

“Think about getting out of the house tomorrow.”

“Uh huh.”

You knock softly on the bathroom door and Haley groans something that could be ‘go away’ but she hasn’t locked the door so you prop it open a little.

“You okay, Hales?” you ask softly without looking in.

“No,” she says like she’s breathless. 

“Can I come in?” 

“Y-yes.”

You push the door open, slipping into the bathroom. Haley’s hunched over the sink, gripping at the edges, trying desperately to breathe. You place a hand on her back, rubbing small, light, circles. 

“I can’t breathe,” Haley says and you can feel the panic set in. 

“You’re okay,” you tell her, looking around the bathroom for something. Anything. You’re not sure what. “Close your eyes, deep breath.”

She closes her eyes and then-- “I can’t.”

“Hales, I’m right here, nothing’s going to hurt you.”

Haley whimpers and nods.

“With me, deep breath in.” You exaggerate your inhale, then exhale, repeating until Haley tries to fall in sync. “Good girl, you’re doing so well, deep breath in, out.” You coax her through it, stroking her hair as she relaxes her grip on the sink slowly, standing like she fears reverting back to her panic attack.

“I should have you as my birth partner,” Haley says.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

She looks at you with a furrowed brow then shakes her head. “Shit, no, I should have you as my potential birth partner.”

“Understood.” You grab a face towel and wet it, handing it to Haley. She dabs it over her face and sighs.

“Do you want to talk about it, Hales?”

“No.” She tosses the towel into the bath and sighs. 

You pull her into you, squeezing her as you hold her against you. “You’re safe, Hales. We’re safe. The kids are safe.”

“I know,” she whimpers. 

“I’m sorry if I freaked you out with all that information.”

“I freaked out myself, I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“No, you should have asked Hales. You needed to know the answers.”

“Can we listen to Fleetwood Mac now?”

You snort and nod, letting her guide you into the bedroom where she’s already set everything up. Haley doesn’t have the energy to do anything more than just plonk herself on the bed, staring at the ceiling while you both try, desperately, to sing the words right. 

Every part of Rhiannon gets sung, a part of the two of you reverts back to being teenagers as you sing it far too loud, complete with air guitars and jamming around the room despite the song’s mellow nature. Even Landslide you seem to make into a battle cry, which you’re sure will wake the kids. It doesn’t, not to the best of your knowledge.

Songbird, however, is not made into a battle cry. 

Haley pulls you to her, taking your hands in hers as you both sway to the music. It’s the calmest you’ve seen her since going into witness protection, and you’re not entirely sure where she’s gone mentally when she closes her eyes and twirls herself before resting her head on your shoulder.

“I think this might be your favourite song,” you say quietly, brushing your fingers against her cheek lightly. “Journey be damned.”

“Mhmm,” Haley agrees quietly. She sniffles and wraps her arms around your waist. “I want to go home.”

“Me too,” you whisper. 

“Can we listen to Fleetwood Mac when we’re home?”

God, does she sound like a child. “Yeah, Hales, there aren’t any rules at home. For all I care we can find an illegal recording of all their concerts and watch them for weeks on end.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Haley.”

“I’d like that.”

Haley falls asleep while you’re still wired. She curls herself up on the edge of the bed, grasping the blankets in her hands. You pull out the files from under the bed, moving to the chair under the window. The curtains are pulled closed but it has the same kind of feeling as sitting under an open window, watching the moonlight cascade over the buildings outside.

After a while, however, a cold, indescribable feeling settles over you. 

Placing the files on the ground softly you reach over to the underside of the bed, peeling your gun from the frame. Haley stirs and you place a hand on top of hers, meeting her eyes in the lamplight.

Don’t move, your eyes say silently.

She obeys.

You slink out into the hallway, padding your way through the shadows. Jack’s door is closed. It squeaks if someone tries to open it. There’s no one in there you would have heard it. 

Saskia’s door isn’t closed. Slowing your breathing, you push the door open softly, gun ready to shoot. 

Clearing your mind of all thoughts you do the procedures. 

Sweep the room.

Take in anything unusual.

There’s no one in the room. Just Saskia, peeking through her curtains at the torchlight over your house.

Saskia.

Window.

Torch.

“Sas, get away!” you hiss, crossing the room and pulling her back by the collar of her shirt. Pulling the curtain shut hastily you call out to your dad, who’s out immediately with Jack in his arms.

“There’s someone outside,” you say quickly as you push Saskia towards him. “Get Haley, out the back. There’s a car down by the shed.”

“Why do I not know about the car?” he says but there’s no time you just tell him to go and push him towards the room.

“Get Haley.”

“My book!” Saskia squeaks.

“I can get you another one,” you respond brashly and the front door opens with it’s tell tale creak. Your dad grabs Saskia’s wrist and drags her towards Haley’s room.

You return to the hallway, padding down in your bare feet, squinting in the darkness to see further. You can hear the other person breathing just around the corner, the two of you no doubt standing back to back, both waiting for one of you to give up.

A boot shuffles against the ground, coming into your eyesight. 

“Hotchner 2.0?” Comes the harsh, British, tones of Shakespeare. 

“Shakespeare? You fucking kidding me?” You lower your gun, only for Shakespeare to reach over and lift it. 

“There’s someone outside.”

“I know. Dad and Haley and the kids are out the back, going to the car.”

“Good. I’ll get your stuff tomorrow, out, out, out.”

The torch sweeps over the kitchen, Shakespeare sliding around the corner to stand beside you. He smells of smoke and sweat and greasy food. You both wait for the light to stop before hurrying down the hallway.

Billy opens the backdoor, keeping his gun trained on the hallway as you sweep the backyard. The torch in the front yard is off, but you can hear them walking around on the stones. Something clatters to the ground and you freeze before Billy’s pushing your back and forcing you into a run.

“Justin,” he explains as you run towards the car, holstering his gun.

Haley’s in the backseat with Jack against her chest, Saskia squished up against her. Dad’s climbing into the driver's seat but keeps going when you wave him through. Billy jumps into the back, ruffling Saskia’s hair.

“Hey Squirt,” he says quietly. Saskia doesn’t react.

Calm.

Calm.

Calm.

You keep repeating over and over in your mind as you pull out, hitting the gas until you’re out of the town, onto the highway. 

“Where are we going?”

“Just drive,” Shakespeare says.

“I left my book,” Saskia whines. “I want my book.”

“What were you reading?” Billy asks. 

“War and Peace.”

“Want to hear it in the original Russian?” Billy doesn’t wait for an answer, he just starts speaking in Russian. He’s not reciting War & Peace, it takes you a while to realise he’s telling you what you need to do.

There’s a house over an hour away, an abandoned cabin. Fully stocked. Just keep going and going and going until you get there, most of it on a side road. He’s not kidding about ‘side road’, you find yourself bouncing along a bumpy dirt road for fifty-three minutes (your dad counted) before you pull up to a dusty old cabin. Billy hasn’t stopped talking.

Saskia’s asleep, Billy effortlessly picks her up and holds her against his cheap Hawaiin-print shirt. Haley’s shaking, holding Jack close to her as she rocks the two of them, her face pale. 

“It’s just one room but you’ll be out by mornin’,” Shakespeare says, pressing his hand to Haley’s lower back as he guides her towards the cabin. 

“Anymore of that and my heart might give out,” your Dad says.

“Not funny,” you respond. 

Shakespeare’s shaking out some blankets while wrestling with the fireplace, trying to get a fire started. Saskia’s asleep on the mattress on the floor, curled up in Aaron’s jumper. Haley’s bouncing Jack nervously, looking over the cabin like it might kill her. 

“You’re safe here,” Billy says mostly for Haley’s benefit. “Everything’s clean, just a few cobwebs.”

“Can I speak to you outside?” 

Billy looks at you and nods. “There’s a teapot when the fire’s going.” 

You both stand outside, staring up at the stars, for what could have been hours. Then Billy hands you a yellow envelope and a torch. You frown at him, shoving the torch in your mouth and pulling out the contents. It’s a collection of photographs of you and Saskia at the bookshop. Jack and Haley buying dinner. Your dad showing Jack a train display at the local store.

“The fuck is this?” you ask around the torch. 

“Catalina Garza was delivered them this afternoon. Got them in the office after dinner.” He rubs his beard. “Didn’t want to worry you in case it was nothing.”

“Didn’t want to worry me?” you say, taking the torch out of your mouth. “Benjamin, this is my daughter. This is me. This is my family and you didn’t want to worry me? What kind of bullshit do you put into your cigarettes?”

“It could have just been kids!”

“This wasn’t taken by kids!” You shake the photographs under his nose. “This is the kind of shit you need to tell me about!”

“Woah, woah, woah, I don’t need to tell you about anything. I’m doing this as a courtesy because you’re my boss, and your daughter is my daughter’s best friend. I had to fight with the marshall service to get here. I didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t you dare,” you respond, thrusting the envelope back at him. “Are we in danger?”

“No.”

“So what the fuck was that back there?!”

“You in danger.”

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know.”

“So you don’t know who put us in danger but you know we were in danger.”

“Yes.”

“If anything like this happens again, you tell me the moment you find out. You call, you come in person, I do not care, you need to tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t? Shakespeare? You can, and you know you can.”

“You’re the first person to say that kids pick up on small things! And what? Today was easy? No? These kids are trying so hard to make sense of their lives right now, they don’t need you on edge waiting for someone bad to turn up.”

“Do not bring up the kids as an excuse.”

“You know I’m right.”

It’s true.

Shakespeare sighs and pulls at his beard.

“I’ll stay on watch tonight. You guys should get some rest.”

“None of us are sleeping,” you tell him, turning on your heel. You stop in your tracks, Haley’s voice washing over you as you hear her quietly singing ‘Songbird’. 

“What is that?” Shakespeare asks.

“Songbird,” you say quietly. 

“Fleetwood Mac?”

“Mhmm.” You close your eyes as Haley continues, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“And the songbirds keep singing like they know the score… and I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before,” Haley sings. The song ends and she starts again.

“The album is in the CD player. Bring it back tomorrow.”

“Anything else?”

“Saskia’s book. Jack’s transformers. Dad’s journal.”

“Anything for you?”

“Nope.”

Shakespeare nods. “Understood.”

When you get into the cabin Haley’s lying on the mattress on her side, Jack up against her, reaching over Jack to stroke Saskia’s hair. She smiles at you and twirls Saskia’s hair in her fingers and continues to sing.

You grab a blanket, throwing it over the three of them as your dad makes tea for himself and Billy before heading out. 

And yeah, sure, you said you weren’t going to go to sleep. But there’s something about the way Saskia turns and curls into you, and Haley’s singing, even when she’s falling asleep and her voice gets softer and softer.

All you know is that you’re falling asleep with the words floating around your head.

I love you

I love you

I love you

Like never before.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm this chapter mmmmmmmmmmmmm i'm sorryyyyyyyyyy~~

“You’ve got two weeks here,” Billy says as he drops your bags in the front hall of the house you’ve moved into. You’ve only really been there for an hour.

It’s hardly anything to look at, in fact you’ve seen dysfunctional unsubs live in better places. But it’s enough to calm home. At least for two weeks Two weeks never felt like such a long time and such a short amount of time all at once. 

“Haley, Dad and the kids are in the sunroom,” you tell him. “Blacked out, of course. Marshall service is watching the backyard.”

“Good.”

“Listen, I’m sorry I snapped at you last night.” 

“No, you were right.” He shakes his head. “The kids are first priority. I picked something up for you.”

He passes you your engagement ring box. Immediately your eyes fly to your ring finger, realising that you hadn’t had it on. Shit. You snap the box open, slipping your ring into its rightful place. 

“I didn’t think,” you confess. 

“Kids,” Billy says simply. “Got somewhere I can be straight with you?”

“Anywhere, everyone’s outside.”

Billy grunts and pushes his hair back. “After this fortnight, you’re all going to have to split up. Just for a couple of months, throw whoever was taking those photos off the scent.”

“A couple of months? That’s a long time.” Ever observant, you think to yourself.

“Hopefully this guy’ll be caught by then.”

“Doubt it.”

“Brought dinner with me,” he says. “Can I make it?”

“It’s eleven in the morning.”

“It’ll need to sit.”

“You know where the kitchen is.”

***

It’s two days before you have to separate when Haley says it. She leans back in her chair, in the allotted twenty minutes you guys get in the backyard, her face tilted against the sun, and sighs dramatically.

“I’m sorry you’re marrying Aaron,” she says.

“Hmm?” you respond, head snapping to her. But she’s closed her eyes and stopped acknowledging your existence. “Hales?”

“When you came back there was a part of me that thought, ‘oh hey, we’re both single at the same time for the first time since we were 15’. You and Aaron were always thick as thieves, though.”

“What are you saying, Hales?”

“Exactly what you think I’m saying.”

“You should’ve said something.”

“I couldn’t make you choose.”

“I wouldn’t have had to choose, Hales.”

“Yes, you would have.” She sighs and throws an arm dramatically over her forehead. “You and Aaron are… unrealistically close. You always were, from the moment he came into Penzance rehearsals. It’s like you both adopted each other. Mom always said it was reserved for something more matured, but there was a solidarity between the two of you. Like you knew each other before you’d even met.”

“We knew each other by reputation,” you say with a frown. “We went to rival boarding schools, lived in a small ass town, we were bound to know each other.”

“Please, you know what I mean. The stars aligned and forced you and Aaron to be together.”

“The stars did not align.”

Haley whacks your arm. “Yes they did.” 

“I wasn’t taken for a long time.”

“I know. But I… eh, I had everyone. Mom, Dad, Jess, Jack, I could get through the divorce. And you jumped back into our lives and I knew some kind of deity threw you here to make sure he’d pull through. Relying on someone other than that damned team of his.”

“There’s some multiverse version of us that said something,” you say quietly, reaching out to take her hand. 

“But that version wouldn’t have…” Haley sighs and squeezes your hand. “I like this version. I like us with all my regrets bundled up and put neatly in a box with a cute little bow.” She rolls her head to the side, looking at you. “I like knowing you’ve loved both of us, and we’ve both loved you. Makes up for Felix.”

“Makes up for Felix,” you echo in agreement. 

“I really fucked up with the divorce. I shouldn’t have kept Jack from Aaron.”

“Hales, you did what you felt was necessary. No one can fault you on that. I would have done the same thing.”

“No you wouldn’t have.”

“I almost did. With Felix. A lot messier a divorce than you and Aaron, too.”

“Yeah, one of you died,” Haley laughs. You have to laugh with her. 

The Marshall calls the two of you back inside and you pull Haley to her feet. 

“Do you want a hug?” You offer and Haley nods, her eyes misty. You pull Haley into you and squeeze her as you rock the two of you.

“I like where we are,” Haley whispers. “But when Aaron starts being Aaron, don’t come crying to me.”

You sigh into her shoulder. “I think this is as far as ‘Aaron being Aaron’ as we’re going to get.” 

“I hope you’re right.”

Saskia and Jack are waiting for the two of you at the door, even if they make it look like they’re not. But Jack’s making the transformers climb the wall so he can look through the keyhole on the (very) old door. Saskia’s lying flat to look under the gap in the door. The marshall is, thankfully, patient with them and you’re sure they only change over every six hours to ensure they don’t snap at the children, not so they’re always alert.

“Hello,” you say as you step inside. 

Jack launches himself at you, wrapping his arms around your legs until you pick him up. 

“Can we have a movie night tonight?” Jack asks.

“We haven’t got a TV,” you respond.

“We could tell stories!” Saskia says as she takes Haley’s arm and tugs on it. “Please, please, please.”

“I think we can do that,” Haley says softly. “Can we do that?”

“Absolutely.”

****

Sam Kassmeyer doesn’t know why you’re separating.

Shakespeare tells him it’s because Haley called her mom. Better to worry Aaron with something small rather than something big. It doesn’t stop Haley from shaking periodically while she sleeps, waking every half hour just to look at the kids.

You can’t judge her, you haven’t so much as slept all night. Maybe because Haley keeps waking up. Maybe because everytime you close your eyes you see Foyet climbing in through the window, killing the kids.

Profile be damned, you’re scared. 

“You’re shivering,” Haley observes on one of her various wake ups. “Are you cold?” 

Jack and Saskia both sink into the center of the mattress as Haley gets up, goes to the cupboard and shakes a fourth blanket out, draping it over the three of you left in the bed. She doesn’t return to her spot like you expect her to, she looks over you, and the kids, then--

“Scooch over.” She slides under the blankets, pressing herself up against you. “We’re safe, the kids are safe,” she whispers. “You tell me that every day.”

She slides her arm over your waist, throws her leg over yours, and presses her face between your shoulder blades. 

“I know,” you say softly, voice cracking. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, Hales.”

“About time,” Haley whispers with a small, non-convincing, laugh. “I thought I’d been going crazy. All this feeling scared and here you are being a wall of non-scardness.”

“I don’t think non-scardness is a word, Hales.”

“Not a word, a feeling.”

Jack mumbles something in his sleep and tosses, moving to his stomach. He feels out with his hands, out, out, out, then his hand finds yours and he wraps his fingers around your fingers. 

“Promise me something, and I’ll promise you the same,” Haley whispers.

“What am I promising?”

“If this all goes south, and something goes wrong, look after Jack and Aaron. I mean it, make sure they’re okay. Make sure Aaron doesn’t shut down and…”

“Be Aaron,” you finish for her.

“And if anything happens to you--” she knees the back of your leg playfully. “I’ll make sure Sas gets to school events on time and that she remembers what an annoying, impassable, wall you can be.”

“Deal,” you say quietly. “What brought this on?”

“Your dad bought notepaper. Nice ones. With pretty pens and wax seals.”

“Hm?”

“He says we have to write to the kids tomorrow. If things go south he wants… he wants the kids to have something to remember us by.”

You sigh, squeezing her arm. “Sorry. He was supposed to talk to me first.”

“I figured, seeing as you’re Jack’s only living God parent,” Haley says, ignoring you. “And you and Aaron are you and Aaron you’d take Jack.”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” you murmur.

“I’m saying if it did.”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” you repeat. 

“I know,” she says. “But you’re acting like something might, and I need to do it for my peace of mind.”

“Okay,” you say softly. “We can write them tomorrow.”

“How many have you written?”

You sigh. It’s work policy to write them every year, to put them away in the event that you die on a case. 

It’s supposed to be yearly.

Strauss gets a new one every three months.

You wonder if Aaron ever told Haley how often you’re supposed to write them.

“A lot,” you respond quietly. Haley just nods. 

“You should get some sleep,” Haley whispers.

“I can’t,” you confess. “I really can’t, Hales.”

“I can sing you to sleep.”

“No you cannot,” you chuckle.

“It worked in the cabin.”

“I’m a grown woman you can’t sing me to sleep.”

“So can.”

“Cannot.”

And yet--she sings. Softly, loud enough to be background noise and to hear the lyrics. Loud enough that the kids seem to, somehow, relax even further into the mattress at the sound of Haley’s voice.

“For you, they’ll be no more crying,” Haley sings Songbird. Again. You don’t entirely mind. “For you, the sun will be shining. And I feel that when I’m with you, it’s alright. I know it’s right.”

With a smirk, you join in for the second verse. The chorus. The bridge. The whole thing. The song three times over. Until Haley’s voice drifts off and you feel her body relax, her breathing evening out, arm heavy over the top of you.

Saskia stirs when you stop singing, opening her eyes slightly before falling back to sleep. 

Yeah.

It’s alright.

***

“Does Sas go by your last name or Hotchner?” Haley asks as she licks the envelope closed, warms up her wax and drips it onto the envelope.

“Officially or unofficially?” you respond, pressing the crease in your own letter.

“Which one does she like better?”

“Both,” you say simply. “The double-whammy-hyphen kind of deal.”

“Done,” Haley says, writing it over the front of the envelope.

“You didn’t have to write anything for Sas.”

“I did,” Haley says simply. “This has been the longest five months of my life, and Saskia’s mine too now. Besides, you wrote something for Jack.”

“Yeah, guess I did,” you smile.

“Now for Aaron?”

You sigh, halving the last of the notepaper and giving her the second half, nodding.

“Now for Aaron.”

Jack and Saskia join you. Jack’s drawing a picture of Aaron meeting Spiderman and Batman. Saskia’s drawing a rose garden with a pencil she found in one of the marshall’s bags. There are some things you’re better off keeping from the kids. When Haley’s done she packs up her stuff and takes the kids to the kitchen to make lunch.

There’s one person left to write to.

You’ve done your dad, Haley, Aaron, Jack and Saskia. 

Last one. You arrange the envelope and letter paper on the table, staring at the blank canvas. Maybe you don’t have to. He would understand, right? If you didn’t?

No. He wouldn’t. 

So you pull the envelope towards you, take the lid off the pen and write:

Dr. Spencer Reid.

Yeah, he deserves one too.

****

“Are they asleep?” you ask quietly. Saskia and Jack made a big deal about having to sleep in the same room because it’s the last time for a while, and honestly, neither of them were going to go to sleep. You and Haley have been up for hours listening to them giggling.

“Yeah, so’s your dad,” Haley snorts. “I can hear him snoring through the wall.”

You laugh as Haley wraps her arm around your waist, kissing your cheek. 

“Bedtime?” she asks.

“Bedtime,” you confirm.

You both pull the sheets back on the bed, fluffing your pillows, change into your pyjamas and slide into bed. Haley snuggles into you, lacing her fingers in yours. You squeeze her hand, turning so that you’re leaning into her completely.

“I don’t want to go,” Haley whispers.

“I know,” you whisper like you really do know. A sob rakes through Haley’s body, and she turns into you entirely.

“How am I supposed to keep Jack safe?” Haley sobs into you. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ve been doing so well, Haley,” you reassure her. “Everything up to right now has been brilliant, just keep doing that.”

“You’ve been telling me what to do! Everyday!”

“I haven’t for the last two weeks. That’s been all you since the cabin.” And It’s true, it has been all Haley.

“Jack thinks this is a vacation,” Haley sobs. “What kind of vacation does all this?”

“One that’s either going to make Jack hate every vacation he takes the rest of his life, or love them. You’ll never know.”

She stops crying to laugh a little, but she’s enough of a mess that the laugh is enough to send her into hysterics once more. When she calms enough to lift her face from your shoulder, your pyjama shirt is soaked. You dry her cheeks with her sleeves and kiss her cheeks.

“You’re a brilliant Mother, Haley Teresa Brooks. You cannot convince me, or anyone else, any different,” you tell her forcefully. She sniffles and nods, not quite believing you. “I cannot think of a single mother at that snotty school Saskia goes to who would have survived this long. They all would have fucked up after month one, going out and getting smashed on martinis because they can’t deal with it anymore.”

Haley snorts. “You think?”

“I know. I’m proud of you. And two months? Easy. We can do that.”

“I could barely do thirty-three days.”

“And now we’re recharged, ready to go again.”

Haley nods. Her eyes flicking over your face like she’s debating something. “I need to kiss you, please. Properly. Nothing more.”

You nod, taking her face in your hands and pulling her to you. She puts her hands around your neck, kissing you as softly and passionately as you think she can muster. And sure you respond, leaning into her, deepening the kiss, making sure you feel every emotion that comes with it. 

Haley breaks the kiss, leaning her forehead against yours.

“Thank-you,” she breathes, twirling your hair in her fingers. “Thank-you.”

“Yeah,” you smile as she climbs off your lap and curls into a ball on the mattress.

“I’ll miss you,” she says.

“I’ll miss you too, Hales.”

She shuffles around for a bit, then turns into you once more and curls into your side. You wrap her up in your arms, resting your chin on her head. 

“We’ll be okay. It’s only two months,” you repeat for the hundredth time in the last fortnight. 

“Only two months,” Haley echoes.

“Y’know if the marshall service allowed us a calendar, Saskia would put it all over the calendar in pink glitter.”

“I’ll do that,” Haley giggles. “In my mind, our reunion is covered in pink glitter.”

****

In the morning, you help Haley dye her hair. Help Jack dye his hair. You somehow convince him that this is the best day of his life, that this leg of the vacation is going to be so much fun. And you cut Saskia’s hair, dye it the best you can (but, hell, Saskia’s going to need more than bleach to get rid of her colour), and braid it as tight as you can.

“Say bye to Jack and Aunty Haley,” you say softly to Saskia as your dad picks up the bags and puts them into your car. Saskia shuffles on her feet, face pressed into your side, then pulls herself together enough.

“Bye Jackie,” she says as she drops to her knees and hugs him tight. Haley turns away from them, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You have to draw in your journal,” Jack tells her. “Then we can share adventures.”

“Promise,” Saskia says, interlocking her pinky with his. 

When Saskia’s done she goes to Haley. You squat in front of Jack, waiting for him to come to you. Which he does. He opens up his arms and hugs you pretty tight for such a tiny kid.

“You be good for Mom, kiddo,” you say softly. 

“You be good for Saski, Ammi,” he says with a hint of mischief in his voice.

“I love you,” you tell him, kissing both cheeks and his forehead.

“I love you too,” he says back. “When we see each other again we have to make sugar cookies.”

“Okay,” you tell him, smiling at his innocence. To be a kid again.

“Okay, I gotta go. I have to put my seat belt on and it’s hard.” Jack squeezes you extra tight and then runs to the car. 

Saskia waves a little timidly before, also, climbing into the car you’re taking.

“Two months,” you tell Haley softly as you pull her into you, hiding her face from the kids. “Just two months. Probably less if Aaron gets his ass into gear.”

Haley chuckles and sniffs. “Let’s pray for less.”

You squeeze her hand as she pulls away from the hug. “I love you, and I’ll see you in no time.”

“I love you too,” Haley smiles. It’s a wet, horrible, smile that makes you feel like crying all over again. “When we see each other, you’re not leaving my sight.”

“You either, Chickadee.”

And with that, you both leave. 

Trying very, very hard not to bawl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Haley Teresa just feels right, my dudes.  
> Also I can never listen to Songbird ever, ever again.
> 
> Haley: confesses she would have liked to have dated mom  
> mom: okay lol deal with that later  
> me: there is no later


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~google docs went down as i was writing these, i've never been more grateful that i'd opened and saved these chapters elsewhere as well.~~

“Arlington, really?” you snark. “You know, this is why people die it WITSEC.” 

“Ma’am,” the marshall sighs, obviously exasperated at the fact that you’ve repeated the same sentence over and over again since you came back in the city boundaries. 

You pick Saskia up, hooking her legs around your back and grunting at her weight. She really is too tall and too old to carry out of the car now. You’ll be damned if you don’t. 

She doesn’t wake up.

“I’m not exactly a silent participant in DC life,” you tell him as he pushes you towards the old, crumbling, apartment building you’re staying in. “A flat? Really? What did you do? Vet everyone in this fucking building?”

“Ma’am.” He doesn’t sigh this time, rather he snaps it at you.

“At this rate I should just go home and wait for him to take me out. Oh, hi honey, the marshall service returned us to you, hope you like to watch us die.”

“Ma’am!”

“Alright!” you snap back, following him into the second floor, down the long, dodgy hallway, to a room at the very end of the hallway. He wrestles with the door before pushing it open.

God, you would pay good money to have somewhere where there’s not paint peeling off the walls. Where there’s not rats and cockroaches and dirt and looks like you could actually die in it.

“Do you have a mop? Disinfectant?” you ask, tightening your grip on Saskia.

“No Ma’am.”

“Then get one!”

Your Dad sighs, pulling out a package of disinfectant wipes and throwing them to the coffee table.

“You’ve lived in worse places,” he says like he’s trying to calm you down. He checks the room, then moves to checking the bedrooms. He grunts at one room, picks up a shower rod (ah, yes, love living somewhere without a shower curtain), reaches into one of the rooms and whacks the mattress.

He might scream. It’s definitely muffled by his inability to open his mouth, then the door is slammed shut.

“Mouse traps would be nice too,” he says quietly. “Can I hold her?” he asks, touching Saskia’s back.

“No,” you say selfishly, squeezing her like you’re a child with a toy. 

“Okay,” he says, squeezing your cheek. “Would you like a tea?”

“Yeah,” you respond, even if you’re just turning and turning and turning in the lounge.

It’ll be okay.

It’ll be okay if you keep reminding yourself of that.

****

“Sparkles!” Shakespeare says as he comes through the front door. For some reason he’s just started saying ‘Sparkles’ when he comes through the door, but he has and it’s probably because it can address both you and Saskia in one foul swoop.

“Hey,” you respond. “Have you seen Haley? Is she okay?”

“Woah, woah, let me put your dinner down first, young miss.” 

“Aren’t you guys the same age?” Saskia says as she bounces over and peers in the shopping back. “Garlic potatoes?!” she says excitedly.

“I told you I’d bring it,” he says, booping her nose. “And, apricot chicken. But I have to make that.”

“You’re the best!”

“I know.” He pulls out a notepad from his jacket and hands it to her. “Sam Kassmeyer said Jack wanted you to have this. He’s got another one, don’t worry.”

Saskia’s face lights up. “Can I go? Can I go look?” 

“Yeah, Sweet, go for it,” you smile. 

Shakespeare watches her go then produces a small jewellery box and pushes it over the kitchen bench to you.

“Haley’s okay, I promise. Sam saw her two days ago. She got you guys matching necklaces, each other’s birthstones.” He pulls everything out the bag, organises it out, and turns on the oven. “Arlington’s not ideal,” he says. “Bit close to home.”

“Bit close to home? I could just jump on a bus and not one of these bastards would be any wiser. Sas too, I have to watch her whenever she goes out for fresh air. Her best friend lives a ten minute walk in that direction.” You point out the window before opening the box.

It’s a ruby necklace, the stone wrapped in silver wire like a net with a simple silver chain. You turn it over in your hands, smiling. Haley’s birthstone.

“She’s got your birthstone,” Shakespeare says as he pulls wine glasses out of the cupboard. “Want some?”

“Yeah, please.” You unhook the necklace and put it over our neck, letting it settle against your skin. 

“Haley’s okay, they’ve put her in a small town. Can’t tell you where. She’s at home there.” He pushes the wine glass to you. “She’s staying with a nice old lady, lots of horses. Jack’s in love.”

“Saskia will be jealous.” You take a sizable gulp and sit down, resting your head in your hands. “When can I see her again?”

“Forty-one days. Not that anyone’s counting.” 

“My fucking babysitter took the calendar away,” you groan. 

“Where’d your dad go?”

“Clearriver. Foyet’s not looking for Dad and the local doctor in Clearriver just had heart surgery so he went.”

“That’s where you grew up?”

“It’s where I graduated, yeah.” You take another gulp of wine, well aware that it’s bound to go to your head. “This goes beyond me being your boss, why do you keep coming back?”

He raises an eyebrow at you, chugs his glass, and starts making dinner.

“Your mom, uh,” he frowns and grabs a knife out the drawer, chopping maliciously at the chicken. “She was a good woman.”

“So I’ve been told.”

He glances at you, just quickly, before blowing air out his nose violently. “My parents were attacked when I was fourteen. Like Aaron.” He pauses his cutting and separates what he’s diced. “Your mom was living in our basement like it was fucking wartime. She helped me through it. Mum died in surgery. Dad was never the same after.” 

He tosses the chopped chicken into the flour and starts measuring out the sauce.

“She used to tell stories about her daughter in America. Not to be weird and dramatic or anything, but seeing you on that case file after you got stabbed was like seeing someone fourteen year old me thought was a sister.”

“It is weird and dramatic,” you laugh. “And it doesn’t make a lick of sense, but I understand. What was she like?”

“Hmm?”

“My mom, what was she like?”

“Kind,” Billy says. “Patient. Loved you a lot.” He smirks. “I mean, a lot. She never stopped talking about you. She taught me to swear.”

“I don’t think she ever swore near me.”

“I can fucking make that up for that,” he grins.

“You already have.”

****

There’s a guy who lives above you called Peter Rhea. 

He writes letters to Saskia and slips them into your mail slot. You’ve never met him before but the marshall service says he checks out, so. Guess he does. His letters to Saskia go in the bin anyway. 

Sas and Lakhi are playing xbox on the trashy TV. Shakespeare had brought the xbox over in one of the many trips he’d taken with Lakhi. Sometimes he shares letters between you and Haley, you’ve got a box of letters from her under the bed. Haley’s probably got a box herself. 

Today, Peter Rhea’s decided that stomping around is exactly what he wishes to do on this fine day. If you weren’t practically on house arrest you’d have half the mind to go up there and tell him to shut up. Instead you just turn the TV up while the girls race each other on SSX Tricky. 

“Can we have tacos for dinner?” Saskia asks.

“How about we get through lunch first?” you respond softly and Saskia huffs.

“I guess.”

“Can we have those nice grilled cheeses you make, Miss Y/L/N?” Lakhi asks politely as she pauses the game.

You have to smile.

Nice grilled cheese. It’s literally just melted cheese on bread. Sliced bread, even, it’s not anything exciting.

“Sure,” you respond. 

It feels like forever until Peter Rhea stops stomping. You almost cheer when he does. God, it’s nice to have peace and quiet.

“Mom! Can I show Lakhi the glow stars in my room? And Grandads? Grandad’s gone to Clearriver.” Saskia jumps on the couch, even though you’ve told her time and time again not to.

“Yeah, go show her the stars.”

“Dad’s picking me up at eight,” Lakhi says as she runs after Saskia.

Yeah.

You know.

Somebody knocks at your door. You can hear Saskia and Lakhi giggling in their room. No one should be knocking. 

They knock again.

You gather up Saskia’s stuff, pushing it out the way so no one can see anything if you do open the door. Saskia pokes her head out her room, pressing her finger to her lip with a raised eyebrow. You nod. 

You listen to her whisper something to Lakhi and then her hide away in the cupboard opens. It doesn’t close.

“Hey, Love, sorry to bother you,” the guy knocking calls through the door. “I haven’t got any milk for my tea, I heard you inside, thought you could jus--”

There’s no peephole, one of the damned marshals got rid of it in your first week. Said it was too much of a liability. He was on drugs. You swear. You make sure the chain is safely attached, look back to Saskia’s room. She’s pushed the door shut, you listen to her drag a chair over to the door. 

Good girl. 

You open the door, just a smidge, reaching for your gun that you’ve kept safely nestled in you waistband.

“Hi Love.”

It’s all you hear before the door comes slamming back on you, sending you sprawling over the dining room table. It buckles for a moment, then collapses. Your gun went spinning across the room when the door came off, now residing somewhere out of reach. 

You don’t have time to groan or say his name as you push yourself to your knees, crawling over the broken wood, reaching for something to use as a weapon. It’s Foyet. How the fuck he found you, you have no idea. 

He grabs you by the back of your pants, flinging you against the wall. You collide, head smacking so hard you’re sure you heard something crack, and your body collapses underneath you. 

The X-Box.

It’s still got those shitty wire controllers. You can wrap the chord around his neck, strangle him until he collapses. Yeah. You crawl across the ground, screaming as Foyet grabs your waist, kicking against him. You get his nose, somehow, and launch over the sofa, reaching for the chord.

“Not so fast, Love,” he snarks as he grabs you and slams you back onto the ground. All the air leaves your chest. “Where’s that kid of yours, then?” he ask, face so close to yours that you can feel his breath tracing over your face. 

“School,” you rasp, digging your fingers into his ribs and pushing him away. He grimaces through a smile as he falls backwards and you scramble to your feet, praying to all deities that could possibly help you that Saskia’s hiding. 

That she’s not going to come out. 

That she’s going to stay silent.

That Lakhi does the same.

You grab a table leg, swinging it at George. He dodges it all too swiftly, grabbing the end of it and pulling it towards him, pulling you with him.

“Shame that she won’t be here to see this, poor little sweet girl. Would have liked to see her face while I tear you apart. Might just have to let her find you without much time left,” he shrugs, running a knife down your jaw.

“You should know you’re not the first,” you rasp with a slight grin. You don’t flinch away from the knife. Fuck you want to, though.

“I know, Love. I know.” He grins, moving so close to you that you think you might throw up. “Tell me where Haley Hotchner is, I’ll let you live. Let your kid live too.”

“No,” you tell him, setting your jaw. 

“Thought you might say that. Haven't got time to argue with you, your boytoy seems to be hot on my trail. Better take this somewhere more comfortable, Honey Diddums.”

And then everything goes blank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~God there's so much I realised I've just fucked with in a good way. Like HOW CLOSE THE TEAM ARE to Saskia and yet they don't find her. Like HOW THE PHOTOS WERE RIGHT THERE BUT THEY missed them because they recognised Sam.~~


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp*: MORE  
> Warning: this isn't nice. Foyet. Knives. Sorry.

First thing’s first: your head hurts.

The kind of hurt that has you squeezing your eyes shut.

The kind of hurt that makes you want to scream because the movement in your forehead HURTS. 

Your bottom lip throbs and your tongue darts out, just for a moment, and your tongue grazes over a sizable split. That’s going to hurt like a bitch later. 

Groaning, your head rolls back, and you become acutely aware that you’re standing with your hands bound above your head. You roll your wrists but they’re shackled and it really does nothing.

You groan, forcing your eyes open even though that, in and of itself, is an effort. 

"Ah, the Princess wakes," Foyet says and something clatters over the concrete before you. 

"Foyet," you groan, trying desperately hard to look at him. But it’s just hard, and you’re tired, and sore, and, fuck. This has got to be on your top ten worse days of your life.

Saskia. You look feverishly around for her, but she’s not here. Thank God. Not her, not her friend. You hope to heavens above she’s still hiding, or she’s gone somewhere safer. Shakespeare shouldn’t be round to your place until eight, that’s a long time from now. He was picking up Saskia’s friend. 

Friend.

Saskia’s friend.

Fuck.

What was her name.

Shit, you said that last bit out loud.

"Nice of you to remember me," Foyet drawls. He crosses the floor to you, draws a finger over your jaw, down your neck, over your shoulder. "You’re a pretty little one, I can see why Aaron chose you over Haley." 

"He didn't choose me over Haley," you spit, trying to tear your body away from his finger. 

"He didn't, did he? We both know he'll always go to Haley first."

Good, you think. Because if Foyet's talking about Haley she's in danger, and Haley doesn't have the kind of training that you do. He should go to Haley. You would go to Haley. Both of you would go to Haley. 

If Foyet was trying to plant some sort of seed in your brain… ehh… it kind of worked. It tickles beneath layers of security, layers of knowing that you’d both choose Haley first in a situation like this. A jealousy, almost, that someone will always come before you. 

You suppose you signed up for that the moment you had Saskia.

"What do you want?" you spit out, grunting at a flash of pain that courses through you.

"I just want you to know that our Aaron Hotchner will never go to you first," Foyet says like he knows anything about you and Aaron. "And that by the time his team remember you, it'll be too late. You know they’re there. Watching my apartment, look." He points to a laptop set up, the screen flashing to life like it’s been started by some sort of sorcery. They are. They’re watching, ready to go. “Not one of them know your apartment is right… there. With you’re little baby girl, right? You left her there. Don’t worry, I left her a note as to where you are.” 

“Bastard,” you groan. 

He looks at you with a lopsided smile, giving you a little twirl like a kid showing off his new outfit. He stops at a table, running his hands over his assortment of knives.

“You know, I brought these with me, thinking I’d need them. Never needed such a big assortment before… but I don’t think I’ll be needing them. This one will do just nicely.”

He picks up a knife he seems to favour, twirling it in his hand. “I used this on your boytoy, don’t worry I was nice and gentle. I’ll be gentle to you too, don’t you worry about that. Saw your daughter’s room too, she’s a sweet little kid. Lots of unicorns, and fairy books, not at all what I expected from a girl on the debate team. She’s good at climbing too, and fighting, although she tends to keep her hands off. Good parenting.”

He lifts the hem of your shirt with his knife, tutting at your scars. “These need to look prettier.”

Pop, pop, pop, goes your shirt buttons. “Very nice, good knifemenship.”

“I don’t think that’s a word,” you breathe, tensing like it’ll keep you out of his reach.

“I almost forgot,” he gasps excitedly. "I'll need this."

He grabs your chin forcing you to look at him. You wish you could burn the feeling off your skin. He traces his nails up, up, up, your arm, reaching your hands and intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“Bee a long time since someone’s touched you like this, hasn’t it?” he grins as he hooks his fingers beneath your engagement ring. He pulls it off your finger with a grin that makes bile rise in your throat. “Nice little ring, didn’t see it when you visited me all the way back in Boston.” He puts it in his mouth, swirling it around his mouth, in that awful way that makes you want to throw up once more.

Then he lets it rest between his teeth, baring his teeth so you can look at it.

You know what he's doing. 

You don't give him the satisfaction of reacting. 

He pulls the ring into the back of his mouth with his tongue, nestling it between his teeth and cheek.

"Let's reopen some of these, then," he says softly, sensually, as he runs his palm over your stomach. Over your scars. Smiling crookedly at you. “How long’s it been since your boy toy was inside you? Because I’m about to change that.”

"Where am I?" you say, swallowing your fear.

"Where's the fun in knowing?" He presses the knife tip into your skin, not quite breaking the skin. 

“I tend to like to know where I am when someone puts their knife inside me,” you say back dryly, even with your heart beating so hard that you can barely hear your own thoughts.

“It won’t matter anyway,” he smiles and he’s far too close to you. He smells like… something awful. Coffee? Cigarettes? Rotting teeth? Who cares. It’s gross. “By the time this” (here he points at a video camera you hadn’t noticed before) “video gets to your precious, precious, Penelope Garcia you’d have bled out and they’ll have nothing but a barely warm corpse. Oops. Probably with your little girl standing there, unsure what to do. What does one do when Mommy dies? She’ll need a thousand therapists. I daresay this is worse than Felix.”

“Don’t,” you say, and it comes out more as a beg than anything else.

“Don’t what?” he responds, his smile turning into a snarl. You can feel blood trickling down your leg.

Don’t what?

Stab me?  
Send this to Garcia?  
Kill me?  
Bring Saskia into this?  
Bring up Felix?  
Hurt Haley?

“Don’t touch Haley,” you manage to get out. 

“How can I touch her if I can’t find her?” he says as sweetly as he can which makes you feel incredibly sick. “You wouldn’t have left her placements up to fate, she’s your best friend…” he considers you for a moment. “You would make sure her handler was someone you trust implicitly, with your life. Jackson? Phillips? Artemis?” he rifles through names that you don’t recognise, knife going in with each one. Not deep enough to do any damage, enough that you know it’ll take a long, long time to die. 

But you will.

In, out. New name. In, out. New name. In, out. New name. 

“Kassmeyer?”

Your eyes flutter and you try desperately not to show it but there it is.

You’ve only fucking gone and given him Haley’s handler.

And he knows. 

He flips the blade against his forearm and drops to his knees like he’s about to worship you. He puts a hand on either side of your hips, finding the crescent scar over your hip.

He looks up at you like you’re soulmates as he runs his fingers over it then his lips, and then he takes his knife again. You wish you could fight back as the cold, wet, and yet warm, steel glides over your skin. All your energy is isolated to staying on your feet so you don’t pull your shoulders out, and staying awake so you know exactly where he is. Then he pops your scar open.

You don’t feel it.

You do feel the blood that trickles down your leg, pooling in your shoe.

“Thanks Darlin’,” he smiles, pulls the knife back, and fucking licks it. He licks it clean, right in front of you. “I’ll be sure to say hi to your Hales for you.”

Then he saunters across the room, shoving his knife down the back of his pants. He leans down to the camera, whispers something that you are sure is your location. 

“Hey, hope your work kids find you before your daughter does. Little munchkin is really good with codes,” he smirks. “It would be a shame for that little girl to find out all the adults she cares about in her life died on the same day.” 

And, fuck, do you scream at him.

Futile, but it makes you feel better.

You scream until your throat is raw.

He sits there and watches you, twirling his knife against the edge of his mouth. He laughs at you the longer you scream. Kicks his legs up on the chair and starts narrating it like this whole thing is a horrifying horror novel. 

You scream until you physically can’t anymore. 

You scream until your body passes out.

You scream when you come back to consciousness.

You scream when he leaves.

You scream like someone will hear you.

You scream until your body decides to pass out even if you don’t want it to, until you can’t possibly live anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a couple more for tonight, you're being spoilt with pain i'm sorry.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mhmmmmmmmmmmmm short onnnnnnnnnnne

The sun warms your cold, cold body. Hurts your eyes. Hurts your body.

Awake.

Asleep.

You know you should stay awake.

It hurts too much to stay awake.

‘Disassociate,’ you can hear Morgan telling you.

You know. You’ve had the same training as Morgan. 

You can’t disassociate. You see Aaron, Haley, Jack, Saskia. A little one wandering around between your legs. Kittens, puppies, this is your fantasy not anyone else’s. But Felix. He’s always there, looming in the distance. Getting into the house. Sometimes he comes in with Foyet.

They sit on the couch and drink tea. Aaron joins them, chatting like they’re all great friends. The kind of friends that watch the Superbowl together. Aaron doesn’t even like the Superbowl. He ignores you and Haley.

He ignores Jack.

He ignores Saskia.

He ignores the small one.

It’s not a dissociation fantasy.

It’s a literal nightmare.

The sun moves. It heats your scars like it wants to light you on fire. You want to cry but there’s no energy left in you at all. Your legs buckle, and fuck—there’s still a scream left in you. If you’re near anyone living they’ve probably all heard it because you’re screaming bloody murder like you weren’t before.

The door shakes. 

You sway, raising your head weakly. Your throat’s too raw, there’s not much screaming you have left in you.

“Not that one,” someone says and your door is left alone.

Yes that one, is all you can think.

Fuck, you wish you could scream. Just one more left in you. But there isn’t one. Not one tiny bit.

“This one!”

The voice rises you from the depths of sleep. Or unconsciousness. Whatever you’re doing now. Whatever state of being you’re in.

“It’s this one!”

“Saskia,” you groan. It’s her. It’s her voice. You think it might be relief that flows through you. Or the adrenaline that you’re daughter might find you like this. This close to death.

“No.” you hear, loud, forceful, not the team. Not Aaron. Not Haley. Not Saskia. “Outside.”

“Dad,” Saskia’s friend whines. 

“Wait outside,” the voice repeats. You can’t place it, long trench coats with… bullet holes? Haley’s birthstone knocks against your skin. He gave you that. You swallow, clear your throat, and try to speak again.

“Billy,” you groan, not all that loud. 

Loud enough. There’s a commotion that’s definitely Saskia. If only because you can hear Saskia screaming ‘Mom!’ as her voice gets further and further away. 

There’s a bang, and the door’s ripped open.

It rolls on its tracks like a train. Clunk, clunk, clunk. It’s so loud. Too loud.

“Kid,” Billy calls like you’re not practically the same age. 

You try to open your eyes, but they’re heavy, and you’re in too much pain. Too much pain.

Just stay on your feet.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Billy says softly, over and over again. He wraps his arms around you, pulling your shirt shut, lifting you slightly as he grabs your wrists and hisses, pulling your hands off the chain that’s holding you upright. 

The only thing that keeps you on your feet is Billy, holding you against him.

“Elle, a little help,” he calls to someone you haven’t seen, pulling a drink bottle out his jacket. “Drink,” he says softly, pressing a straw to your lips. “Little sips.”

“Is this transmitting?” Billy’s friend asks. 

You assume they’re pointing to the camera. 

“Garcia,” you groan out as Billy presses his hand to your wounds. “He’s sending it to Garcia.”

“Their tech analyst,” Billy says.

“I know who Garcia is.” The room fills with gunfire, then silence. You can hear Saskia screaming.

“Sas,” you can barely groan.

“She’s okay,” Billy says, hooking his arms under yours and holding you up. “She’s shaken up but she’s okay. Lakhi called me. They waited until all the noises stopped. Ended up being after the fucking SWAT team and FBI had left.” 

Lakhi. That’s Saskia’s friend’s name. Billy’s daughter. How on earth did you forget.

He lifts the hem of your shirt, inspecting the wounds which he’s frowning at.

“Elle,” he says, motioning to his companion. “They’ve clotted, but she’s lost a lot of blood.” He looks up at you. “You’re not bleeding anymore. You’ll be okay. A transfusion wouldn’t hurt.”

“Not getting a transfusion would hurt,” Elle says as she comes over, looking over you softly as she pulls your shirt shut.

“Haley, Aaron,” your voice catches as adrenaline courses through you suddenly. “Jack.”

Billy doesn’t let go of you, even if you can suddenly stand on your own. 

“Hotch is okay,” Elle says as she’s holstering her gun. “Jack’s okay.”

“Haley?” you squeak out.

Elle shakes her head. 

The whole world stops. 

You've experienced it once before, but this is worse. 

This is horrible, gut sinking, breaking, the worst. The sound that leaves you isn’t human, and all you can think about is that you didn’t get to say goodbye to her. You told her everything was going to be fine, and it was always going to be fine, because she was safe. 

You put her with Sam. 

She should have come with you. 

You should have broken all of those fucking rules and taken her with you. Gone to Hawaii or something. Packed a bag and lived in London until it blew over. Or Florence. Or the Australian outback. Or the fucking Sahara desert.

For all you care, you could have lived on a naval ship, in an escape boat or something for a billion years and it would be better than hearing that she’s dead.

Billy drapes his coat over your shoulders, doing the few buttons that are left on it up. 

“Do you want to see Saskia?” he asks.

Shit you must look a mess.

“Is there any blood on me?” you ask, like that’s the issue. Elle wipes your tears off your face, fixes the coat.

“No,” she says softly. 

Then she’s guiding you out of the… warehouse? Into the sun that makes you squint against it. But there’s Saskia, impatiently standing against the wall. You pull her into you, ignoring that searing pain that courses through your body. Which, hell, is a lot. 

“Mom?” Saskia squeaks and you squeeze her close to you, rocking her slightly. 

“You’re okay,” you tell her. “You’re okay.”

“He came to our house,” Saskia whimpers. “He was there.”

“I know, baby, I know. You’re safe, you’re safe.”

“I’m not safe,” Saskia whimpers.

“You’re safe,” you repeat.

“Elle,” Billy says. “Take Lakhi and Saskia, go get a milkshake or something.”

“She’s not leaving me,” you say definitively. 

“Love, you need medical attention. That’s the most boring thing for a kid.” He looks at you like there’s something else. “It’s over, he can’t get to them anymore.”

“That’s what we thought last time, and look what happened,” you’re so, so, close to blurting something about Haley. But you catch yourself just in time. 

“He is not coming back,” Billy says. There is no room for discussion. 

“Saskia isn’t leaving me,” you return. Billy sighs and nods.

“Okay.” He looks at you like you’ve made the wrong decision, but he guides you back through the warehouse anyway, keeping you and Saskia pressed close to him. 

He helps you into a van, Saskia too, sits in the drivers seat and sighs.

“I don’t think she should come,” he says simply.

“You don’t get to make those decisions,” you respond.

He hands you a t-shirt from the glove box. “If you start bleeding, use that.”

“Bleeding?” Saskia says, turning between the two of you. “You said you were okay!”

“She said you were okay,” Billy says. “Your mom can’t lie to you.”

“Billy,” you hiss.

“Drink, there’s a juice box in the bag. One for you too, Sas.”

“I’m only allowed one a day,” Saskia says.

“Well, today you can have ten,” Billy responds as he glances at you. “And I do get to make those kinds of decisions.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys guess what WE'RE UP TO 100 CHAPTERS OF THIS FIC, CONGRATULATIONS.

The drive takes forever. At first it takes forever because you’ve got no idea where you’re going, but then Billy takes two turns that one only ever has to take on the way to Haley and Aaron’s old house. 

That’s the first time you’re truly in denial.

All you can think is thank God Billy knew it was going to happen.

That Billy knew you were going to irrationally break.

Your brain is telling you that you know what’s at the end of this drive. 

You know that’s where Haley is, and from Elle’s face, she’s dead. Completely dead. And your brain, that’s fine with it. Not fine with it, but close to fine you guess. It understands, understands what you’re going to find. 

But then your body is fighting against it, tugging at the door handle to let you out but Billy’s put the child lock on.

“Stop,” he says quietly, reaching over and tugging your elbow until he can grab your hand. He motions to Saskia who’s genuinely looking scared.

And, shit, you did that. 

You made her that scared. 

“I’m sorry, Sweet,” you say quietly, resting your hand on her leg. 

She hesitates but takes it and squeezes your hand lightly. “Auntie Haley’s not going to be there, is she?” Saskia asks softly. “The guy who left the codes killed her, right? The one who hurt Dad?”

She says it so bluntly that you have to turn away from her otherwise you’re going to break down completely. 

“You can cry, Mom. It’s okay to cry,” Saskia shifts and leans so you’re not sitting with your arm at a weird angle. “I want to cry too.” You wish you could just bundle her up in your arms. “Can I stay in the car with Mr. Shakespeare when we get to the house?”

“Yeah,” is all you can get out without your voice cracking.

It’s a sight when you pull into the street. 

SWAT cars everywhere, Police littered like someone’s stepped on an ant house, everyone’s leaning over, bracing themselves on their knees as they all dry heave. 

The first person you see is JJ as Billy lets you out of the car. You push one of the cops out of the way when he tries to check your ID, and he grabs at Billy’s coat that you’re wearing, but Billy flicks his own and tells him it’s fine. Maybe you would have comforted JJ if Spencer hadn’t been approaching her, instead you turn in complete disbelief towards the house. 

You have no idea why people are still running around. You don’t think there’d been anyone running around when Felix had ‘died’, although you weren’t sure of anything that day. Dave practically bursts forth from the front door, like he’s seen you from a window, waving you into the house urgently.

There’s a body first, people are covering it up, Dave doesn’t let you look. You’re sure somewhere in there you tell him not to touch you when his fingers graze your arm, but when you get to the stairs and Emily’s follows those exact same rules you want to scream. 

You want somebody, anybody, to break the trance. To stop you from staring at the blood on the floor, the way it drags and clumps, how it’s periodically on every other stair and--

Morgan’s pulling a sheet over a second body. You just stand in the doorway, staring at him, staring at the sheet.

“There’s nothing you can do here,” he says and you’re sure that he thinks you’re someone like the paramedics. 

“Is that Ha--” your voice catches and you dig your nails into your arm just to feel something. “Is that Ha--” shit, it does it again. “Her. Is that her?”

“Yeah,” Morgan says, standing as he sees you. 

It’s like life is just out of reach, like maybe you really are floating, as you reach her. For a while you just stare at the sheet, like it’ll just resurrect her. There was a story like that, right? Or that she’s going to just miraculously wake up and she’d just been unconscious the whole time. 

When that doesn’t happen you lower yourself to your knees, pulling the sheet back just a little, Morgan doing the rest.

She’s just staring. That’s the first thing you notice. You hardly recognize the blood all over her. The gun shot wounds. The singular, long, cut over her left hip that matches yours. Bastard. You run your hands through her hair, pushing it back off her face. She would have been appalled if people saw her like this. That’s the clearest thought in your head. 

You can’t clean her. Protocols say you can’t. All you want to do is get a washcloth and clean her blood off. You can’t do that. Fuck you want to.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, and it’s not sorry that she’s died, it’s sorry that she looks such a mess. You brush your fingers over her forehead, surprised at how lifeless she feels. “She’s so cold. Can you get her a blanket?” 

You realise what you’ve said the moment you’ve said it. Your entire body seems to cave in with all it’s hopelessness. You fall back onto the floor, clutching your knees to your chest. You stare, and stare, and stare, eyes finally falling to your engagement ring on her finger.

Bastard.

You’re not entirely sure when Morgan hugs you, or for how long you cry into his kevlar vest. You just know that your face is raw from crying but also from just… being so close to a fucking kevlar vest. Morgan has his hand pressed firmly against the free side of your face, cradling you against him. 

“It should have been me,” you say quietly through sobs. 

“It should have been any of us,” Morgan corrects. “Hotch is downstairs with Jack.”

Shit, Jack. 

You hadn’t forgotten him, there’s no way you could forget that beautiful boy. No way at all. It’s just that this happened to him and-- shit, you wish this never happened. Of course you wish this never happened. You sniffle, wipe your nose on the back of your hand, and soothe Haley’s hair down once more. 

Morgan keeps a hand on your back as you close her eyes softly, straightening her necklace so it’s not all bunched up. Your birthstone is all skewed, the pendent caught in her shirt.

“I’m sorry, Sweet,” you whisper as you pull the pendent out and press it flat against her chest. “Haley?” you ask softly, like it’ll wake her. “Hales?”

Morgan presses his hand to your back.

You nod, chin wobbling, tears pouring from your eyes.

“I love you,” you say softly against her forehead as you kiss it. 

With one last look, you pull the sheet back up over her. 

You stumble out onto the staircase landing, steadying yourself against the wall.

“Why aren’t you dead?” suddenly echoes in your mind. “Because you didn’t check if I was still breathing,” comes Felix’s snarky response.

“I need to see him,” you say forcefully and Emily nods from where she’s still standing. 

“He’s outside with Jack.”

“No. Foyet.”

Emily looks at you like that’s a bad idea. “He’s dead,” she says warily. 

“I need to see,” you tell her. Your head feels like it’s filling with air as you walk past her, every movement down the stairs feeling like a chore. You stand by Foyet’s sheet for a long time, wondering why he gets the same treatment as Haley. Why are there still people standing around him like he deserves an audience.

You nudge his sheet back with your foot. The ME offers to pull the sheet back for you but you shake your head.

“He doesn’t deserve that,” you tell him plainly as you get the sheet far enough back to see Foyet’s face.

Yes.

He’s dead.

There’s no coming back from that, he’s not even recognisable from the Foyet you met earlier in the day. He’s not even recognisable as human.

“Good,” you say plainly. “You can cover him up again. I don’t want to remember him in this house.”

Dave guides you out of the house, a strong hand on your elbow as your movements get sluggish.

“You doing okay, kid?” Dave asks softly. You just shake your head as you get outside. 

Aaron’s sitting on the floor, covered in blood, cuts all over his face, hands shaking. Saskia’s sitting in front of him, Jack in her lap, as they drag chalk over the porch. They’re not drawing anything, it’s just a repetitive movement. Billy’s standing in the driveway just watching the three of them as you lower yourself to the ground beside Aaron.

Aaron turns his face to you and he might want to say something but instead he just presses his face into your shoulder. His hands are horrible, ripped, bleeding crusted blood that belongs to not just him. 

This, you can clean. 

Morgan knows it, he hands you a warm washcloth and a bowl of water before he joins JJ and Spencer. You take Aaron’s hand, even when he protests, and run the wash cloth over his hands softly. 

“I killed him,” he whispers so the kids can’t hear him. 

“I know,” you whisper back.

“With my hands,” Aaron says like the thought disgusts him. It probably does. “I couldn’t stop. I just kept going.”

You kiss his hair. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” You finish cleaning one hand, kiss it twice, then take the other hand and repeat the cleaning. “You did it to keep Jack safe. And you did.”

Jack looks up at the mention of his name and waves weakly at you.

“Hey Sweetface,” you smile. 

“Hi. I worked the case,” he says and he’s a little bit proud. But he’s got that glassy look in his eyes that Saskia had had after Felix’s death. He doesn’t quite understand, but he understands too much.

“I’m very proud of you.”

“Mommy hug’d me too tight when she said goodbye,” Jack says. Your throat closes and Aaron’s body stiffens. Saskia’s drawing stops and she says she’s going to help Billy before she runs to him. 

“That’s because she loves you so much,” you smile, leaning forward and booping his nose. 

“Can I give you a hug?” Jack asks. “I would like a hug too.”

“Sure,” you smile. Jack drops his chalk, climbing into your lap and putting his arms around your neck, one arm resting on top of Aaron’s head which hasn’t moved from your shoulder. That’s how you stay for a long time, until Jack’s body slumps in your lap and he almost falls off when you realise he’s fallen asleep.

You catch him before he face plants into the porch, shuffling him in your lap and continue to clean Aaron’s hand, who’s also become a dead weight against you. How on Earth you managed to get both boys, high on adrenaline and covered in blood, to sleep is a mystery. You guess you’re grateful, because every time you close your eyes you can still see Haley.

Aaron wakes with a start, head almost smashing into your face. It takes him a moment to figure out where he is, his breath wheezing in his chest. There’s a heartbreaking squeak that leaves his chest when he realises.

“I thought you were dead,” he says quietly, squeezing your leg.

“Nope, still here.”

“When I… I w… went back to Haley.” He presses his face into your shoulder until he hisses through the pain and you’re sure he’s reopened the cut on his face. “He’d put your ring on her. I’d missed it the first time.” He says it like it offends him that he did.

“Yeah.” 

“They’ll hold it in evidence until everything is processed,” he grumbles. 

You wonder why he’s so fixated on it, it’s just a ring, but then you remember how all you could think about when Felix died was that his blood was on your favourite sweater. That you wouldn’t be able to get it out even if you soaked it for days straight. It’s the small, stupid, things that keep you from spirralling to the point that you’re no use to anyone.

“How are we going to do this?” Aaron asks at last as he cups Jack’s cheek and strokes at his temple.

“Well, you’re going to feel like shit, and then you’re going to feel great, and then it’s going to crash again. So you’re going to have to take more than thirty-four days off work.” It’s meant to be a joke, but it falls flat. Why you told it to him like it wasn’t going to affect you, you’re not sure.

“I want her back,” Aaron whimpers and you manoeuvre your arm to encompass him as well as Jack. He sobs into you, whole body shaking. You just sit there with your face pressed into his hair, tears falling even though you’ve got your eyes squeezed shut.

“Me too.”

Saskia comes back with flowers from the garden, kneeling behind you and sticking the stems into your hair. 

“You doing okay, Sweets?” you whisper, resting your cheek on Aaron’s head and looking back at her.

“No,” she says truthfully. 

“Do you want a hug?”

“No.” She twirls a flower under her nose then presses it in her hair. “I’ve had to hug too many people today. You look pale.”

“I’m okay,” you smile and Saskia kisses your cheek. 

“Can you sleep in my room tonight?” she whispers as she wraps her arms around your neck from behind. 

“I can stay with you,” you confirm. 

“But you have to see the paramedic first,” Saskia tells you. “Mr. Shakespeare made one stay. I’m going to go see if Uncle Derek needs a hug.”

“Honey, just wait. Sit down,” you say quickly because you’re not sure if Derek even left the house or if he went back in and you’re not having her walking around it, with the way that it is. Saskia huffs and sits down, pressing her face between your shoulder blades. 

“I feel useless,” Saskia says quietly. 

“We all do,” you reassure her as you rub Aaron’s back. 

“Guys,” Emily says. “Car’s waiting.”

Aaron nods against you, then slowly raises himself to his feet and grabs Jack from your lap. He’s on autopilot as he goes to the car, Saskia takes his spot, nestling into your side. You try to catch a glance from Emily, but she’s taking Hotch to the car so there’s no way she’s coming back.

“What’s the point of saving people if we don’t get to be save the most important people?” Saskia asks into your neck. 

Shit there’s no answer to that.

There’ll never be an answer to that.

You can only pull her into your lap and hold her as tight as you can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MORE TOmorrow (or today, however you look at it). i need to sleep haha but FUCK i'm SORRY.  
> A. Moms injuries are about to play up  
> B. Hahahaha I matched 100 chapters with episode 100 I hate myself but here we are.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternately named: Garcia is going to need some good therapy and shooting the transmitter didn't work.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Garcia says as she rushes towards the team. 

Morgan catches her before she can meet the protective bubble around the car, around Aaron and Jack.

“Babygirl, calm down, Hotch just got Jack calm.”

“Where is she?” Garcia says. She’s not looking at Aaron and Jack. She’s looking elsewhere feverishly, like someone might just arrive all of a sudden.

“Haley’s dead,” Morgan says, putting himself in Garcia’s eyeline.

“I know that,” it’s brash, but not void of emotion. “Y/n, where is she?”

“At the house,” Morgan says. “She wanted to stay. I didn’t argue.”

“Well you should have!” Garcia hisses. She shoves her phone into his chest, not waiting to see his response to the video she has playing, eyes scanning the small bubble of agents, then starts towards the house.

Morgan frowns, looking down at the phone before following Garcia. Shakespeare’s helping you up by the elbow, grabbing your waist when your head starts to spin and your legs refuse to hold you up. 

“Saskia, can you go to the car?” Billy says softly, eyes flicking to you. “You’re okay, stay with me.”

Saskia drags her feet along the grass, unsure if she wants to go to the car or not. “I want to stay with Mom,” she says quietly, hugging her stomach. 

“I know, Sparkles, but Mom’s really hurt.”

“That’s why I want to stay with her!” 

“Let me down,” you say quietly, tapping Shakespeare’s arm. 

“Y/N!” Garcia yells and you hold a hand up to her as Billy lets you down to the ground.

“Saski, come here,” you call, opening your arms up. She hesitates, then runs to you, crumpling into your arms. “I love you, Sas, but I have to see the paramedics and they’re already really stressed.”

“So I’ll just get in the way,” Saskia huffs.

“I didn’t say that, did I, hun?” (Saskia shakes her head against your shoulder). “I need you to look after Jack and Dad, okay? Just while the paramedics look at me.”

“I don’t want to,” Saskia sobs. “I want to stay with you. I want to see Ammi.”

“I know,” you murmur, rocking her as your head goes fuzzy. “Saski I need you to go with Auntie Pen, I need you to go sit in the car with Dad and Jack, okay? Pen,” you call out to Penelope. “Can you come take Saski to the car please?”

“Are you okay??” Garcia asks, jumping from foot to foot as Morgan says ‘Holy shit’ while watching the phone. 

“Take her,” Morgan says like there’s no room for argument. Because there isn’t. He pries Saskia’s arms from your neck, passing her to Garcia who struggles to keep a grip on her as she screams.

“I’m okay, Sas,” you say (or at least, try to say, suddenly Morgan’s at a weird angle and he’s hushing you, telling you not to speak.)

Everything kind of swims for a moment, like hours happen all at one in no particular order. You think Morgan might pick you up, or maybe Billy, someone gets Saskia to stop screaming. 

“Ma’am, I need you to stay with us, keep your eyes open for us,” a paramedic says and something’s put over your body. “Which one of you is coming?”

A pause that seems to last an eternity.

Morgan screaming ‘Hotch’.

“Oh hey,” the paramedic says. “You know the procedure. Follow with the kids if you want, Bill.”

You force your eyes open when the paramedic tells you to, Aaron reaching over to take your hand.

“I’m right here,” Aaron says, squeezing your hand. “You’ve got to stay awake.”

“I know,” you whisper and Aaron pushes your hair off your face, actively not looking anywhere but your face.

And in that exact moment, you know he blames himself for all this.

****

“Aaron!”

The name is foreign on your father’s lips. Reserved only for times of stress and whenever he feels like, playfully, upsetting the man. Only this time, Aaron feels it. Something new.

Relief. 

No, something else.

Care.

Comfort.

Safety.

“I left her to die,” he sobs, the words rolling out his mouth long before he can think about it. Whatever feeble wall he’d built to keep his emotions at bay, to be strong for the kids, falls apart immediately. His body crumbles and he finds himself gathered into the older man’s arms.

“You did no such thing,” he says, rubbing Aaron’s back. “You went to the person with the least training first. She understands that.”

“I saw her ring and I didn’t think.”

“Okay,” your dad just says, not letting go of him. 

Unlike David Rossi, your dad’s staple seems to be letting people wallow in their self hatred until they pull themselves out of it. As if Aaron Hotchner could ever pull him out of that pit. 

“I’m sorry about Haley,” your dad says. “I need you to understand that she loved you, she loved Jack, she loved Saskia, and she loved y/n. And I am sure she would do today a thousand times over if she knew it kept you all safe.”

He sobs, God, does Aaron sob. 

JJ clears her throat at the door.

“Come back later,” your dad says without looking up. When she doesn’t leave he looks up, frowning, and repeats himself in a much more marine voice. JJ nods and backs away.

Aaron breaks. Both of them can feel it. Even Dave, when he comes into the room, knows it’s not something he can fix by shoving a gun under Aaron’s nose and telling him he’s being dramatic. 

Dave’s not even sure Aaron can get through this. He doesn’t tell him that, though. He just sits with the two of them and presses his hand to Aaron’s leg.

“This is not your fault,” Dave says quietly when Aaron stops sobbing. 

“It’s not,” your dad agrees. 

“Where are Jack and Sas?” Aaron asks at long last.

“With Prentiss and Reid. Garcia’s talking to Morgan.” Rossi shakes out a clean handkerchief and hands it to Aaron. “JJ’s a little scared of Saskia.”

“Why?” Aaron says with a small smile as he dries his cheeks.

“I don’t know what she said to Saskia, probably something optimistic, but I think Saskia turned into a banshee.”

“Optimism is our kryptonite,” your dad says blandly and Aaron chuckles. It’s sad and wet but it’s a chuckle all the same. 

“Hey guys,” the paramedic from the ambulance says. “Thought I’d drop by, the desk says she’s doing ok. She’s coming out of surgery. Not as scary as last time.”

“Thank-you.”

“Yeah, surgeon is coming through in a moment. Next time you guys want to get near knives, make sure I’m on shift.” It’s a joke that falls flat.

But a joke nonetheless.

****

When you wake, Aaron’s asleep with his head on the mattress. Dave’s sleeping in the hallway, you can see him with his chin tucked into his chest and Saskia fiddling with the hem of her pants at his feet. Jack’s doing laps of the hallway with your dad, hanging onto his fingers as he (unsuccessfully) counts the steps it takes.

A nurse walks by, notices you’re awake, and comes in to explain what’s happened.

Like you don’t know what’s happened.

At some point Aaron’s pushed out into the hallway, they pull out your breathing tube, tell you things that you should be listening to but you’re not. Not really. You’re watching the way that the kids run to Aaron, wrapping themselves around him like bubble wrap. 

“She can take visitors, just please be calm,” a nurse says. You can see Saskia’s face contort into some sort of offence and then she nods.

“Okay,” Saskia says. “Can I see her?”

The nurse nods and Saskia takes Aaron’s hand, slowly coming into the room.

“Hey sweet cheeks,” you smile as she sits in the chair Aaron had been sleeping in. 

“You weren’t okay,” she says sternly. “You ruined Mr. Shakespeare’s coat but he says it’s okay. He says he needed another one anyway. That’s not the point. Your oxygen mask before anyone else’s, remember? That’s what Granddad says.”

“Yes Ma’am,” you say to her but she shakes her head. 

“This is not the time to be silly. This is real.”

“Were you talking to Spence?”

“Mhmm.” She looks proud of herself, then she glances at Aaron and Jack before scooching the chair forward and resting her head on your shoulder. “I was worried about you.”

“I was worried about you too, hun.” 

“Lakhi and I stayed hidden for a long time. She held the door closed when he came looking. He rattled all the stuff to scare us but he didn’t come into your room.”

“You were in your room,” you say, frowning.

“No. When he grabbed you Lakhi made me move. She took your gun. We hid in the cupboard and I told her she wasn’t allowed to shoot. Sorry.” 

“Not sorry, Saski. Remember what I said?”

“Hurting the bad guys isn’t my job.”

“Good girl.”

Aaron stumbles at the door, Jack in his arms, then comes into the room and places Jack on the end of your bed. 

“Are you okay, Ammi?” Jack asks. Aaron’s brow furrows. 

“I’m okay, Jackie. How are you?” 

“Sad. I want Mommy.”

“Me too, buddy.” 

“Will you come home?”

“Not tonight,” you say softly and Jack’s face falls a little. “But Daddy’s going to be at home.”

Aaron looks torn but you manage to give him enough of a look that he nods.

“Yeah, Bud, I’ll be home.”

“Saski too?”

“Saski too,” you confirm. “And there’s dinosaurs, right Dad?” You smile at Aaron who nods.

“Yeah, all your dinosaurs have been keeping your bed warm,” Aaron says, running his hands through Jack’s hair. 

“What about Saski? What keeps her bed warm?”

“I’ll show you when we’re home,” Saskia says.

Aaron’s chin quivers and he turns around, calming himself while looking out into the hallway. 

“Hey, Saski, can you and Jack go out to Gramps and Dave? I want to talk to Dad.”

Saskia nods, kissing your cheek and sliding off her chair, holding her arms out for Jack to climb into them. He does just that, albeit reluctantly, and wraps himself around Saskia.

“I hope you get better, Ammi,” Jack says.

“Of course,” you smile at Jack.

“Ammi?” Aaron asks softly as the kids leave.

“Aunty Mom,” you explain. “Come here.”

He shakes his head, but comes over anyway. He hovers, playing with his hands, then sits.

“Reid says these painkillers are bad for you,” he says, fiddling with your IV. “He said he’s going to find a good way to ween you off them.”

“Aaron.”

“I left you to die,” he says quietly. “I-I saw your ring and I didn’t do anything. I didn’t--I didn’t even think--I--”

“Aaron, it’s okay. Billy found me, I’m okay.”

“I don’t know how he found Haley.”

“Me,” you say quietly, the guilt washing over you. “I told him. I told him that Sam was her handler.”

“It’s not your fault,” Aaron says.

“Yes it is, Aaron. It absolutely is.”

At some point you both start crying. You’re not sure when. But it’s ugly sobbing and it hurts and it hurts even more to see Aaron trying so hard to pull himself together beside you.

“I don’t know how you can ever trust me again,” Aaron says.

You confess the same thing to him.

You cry some more.

Aaron dries your cheeks, fingers lingering on your skin. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too, Aar.”

“I want to stay.”

“Babe, you can’t,” you tell him gently, cupping his cheek. “Jack and Sas need someone home. Need normality. They need to know they’re safe, with their dad, okay? Because it’s going to be rough. Really rough. And they need a good solid base, and you are that.”

“I don’t want to be that.”

“Too bad, too sad, that’s part of being a parent.”

“JJ’s scared of Saskia.” There’s a small smile that ghosts over his face, then it falls. “She was really there when Foyet was?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

A silence falls over the room before you hear your dad in the corridor… defending you and to someone… Strauss?

“You don’t get to go in there,” your dad is saying. “You do not get to question him. Not today. Today, he has to put back together a life that his job destroyed. You don’t get the right to come in here. Not today.”

“I understand--” Strauss starts but she’s cut off with a string of ‘no I don’t think you do’ from your dad and even Rossi starts to back him up.

Aaron smirks just a little.

“Never thought I’d hear your dad defend me.”

“He always defended you,” you tutt softly. “He defended you every day since you broke your leg.”

“He called me Aaron,” he says.

“He said he would when we--” came home, you finish silently, eyes glassing over. “It should have been me.”

“Hmm?”

“I should have died, not Haley. I told her we were coming home, I--”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, stop,” Aaron says, taking your face in his hands. “It shouldn’t have been you, don’t you ever say that again.”

“You want her back.”

“I do, but I would never, ever, sacrifice one of you for the other. There is no reality where I would trade you for her.”

Realities.

There’s a reality where you and Haley got together and this never happened, where you both moved to some small country town and ran your own farm, sold peach tea for extra cash and the kids grow up learning how to sell cows or something. And this never happens. You’re both blissfully unaware to the world that you, now, are living in.

“There’s a reality for everything,” you whisper, turning away from him.

****

Aaron calls you before Jack and Saskia go to bed.

Your Dad and Morgan play cards to give you privacy.

“We...uh, we’re all sleeping in the same bed,” Aaron says quietly. “Saskia won’t let Jack out of her sight.”

“Me and H.. H… Hales, we did that every Friday night.”

Silence.

“Sas won’t stop singing to Jack,” Aaron says.

“What song?”

You know what song.

Aaron just holds out the phone, letting you listen.

Listen to Songbird.

Listen to Saskia trying to hold it together.

Listen to Saskia quietly say

I love you

I love you

I love you

Like never before.

Your dad says nothing. He doesn’t let Morgan know. He just squeezes your hand.

“It’s alright.” Is all he says.

And Saskia echoes it in song.

And maybe it will be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Aaron has yet to see the video, but Garcia and Morgan have both seen it and dynamics are definitely going to change between the three of them ouchies~~


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a bit of (sad) fun with this chapter, different from everything else we've had up to this point.

*~2001~*

It’s raining. 

It’s raining and the road’s flooded and Felix can’t get home and you’re glad.

You’ve barricaded the front door just in case, anyway. 

The lawyer said he shouldn’t be here.

Doesn’t stop him most days.

The house is silent save for the grumble of thunder and Saskia’s tiny whistle as she sleeps.

She’s asleep over your chest, fist in her mouth because you won’t give her a pacifier anymore. It’s the first time she’s slept in days. Whenever Felix is home she gets all tense around him, yesterday she just screamed and screamed and screamed until he put her down.

Tonight is better.

Tonight is so much better.

The phone rings and you’re immediately glad it’s so close to the sofa because Saskia rears her head as she wakes and you press the phone to your ear and shush Saskia.

“Garza,” you answer once Saskia puts her head back down on your chest. 

“Hotchner!” Comes the excited response.

“Haley?!” You squeak excitedly and Saskia makes a 3-year-old grumbling noise.

“It’s me! Is it raining where you are?”

“Chickens and poodles,” you respond.

“Chickens and poodles,” she groans, remembering when she’d messed it up at theatre camp. “How are you?” 

“I’m good, what warrants a phone call at this hour?” 

“Missed you. Aaron’s at work.” 

“Who’s it?” Saskia asks and she yawns.

“Auntie Haley, do you want to say hi?” (She shakes her head and buries her face into your shirt) “Saskia says hi.”

“Hi,” Saskia says into her fist.

“Hello,” Haley coos like it’s just made her entire day. “I love her, I love her, I love her,” Haley says and you’re pretty sure she’s bouncing from wherever she’s calling you. “How is she? Aaron said he saw you at the office and that she wasn’t sleeping.”

“He saw me at the office?” You frown. “Sorry, I should have said hi I’ve just been overwhelmed with work and Felix doesn’t believe in nannies. Saskia’s decided sleep isn’t her favourite activity, but she’s asleep now. After she threw her dinner all over the wall.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah. He’s not here,” you say it so off hand that it kind of surprises you. 

“You doing okay?”

“Yes, Haley,” you respond. You think about telling her about the divorce. That Felix won’t sign and he’s fighting for full custody of Saskia. Or was, until the lawyer said he’d never get it. You want to tell her that, really, it’s you that doesn’t believe in nannies because you can’t trust Felix not to just turn up and take her.

You want to tell her that your life is in shambles.

Instead: “You already asked. Are you really okay?”

“No,” she says after quite some time. “When does it stop hurting?”

“When does what stop hurting, Hales?”

“Losing a baby,” she says quietly.

Oh. 

“Where are you?”

“Home. I don’t want to be at home.”

“I can meet you at Rosa’s?” 

“Okay.”

****

Rosa’s is an all night diner that has these biscuits Saskia loves. It’s also exactly halfway between your house and Haley’s house. You’re drenched to the bone by the time you get inside, Saskia’s hair is wet and poofy but the rest of her is dry thanks to your jacket that she’d burrowed under when you’d picked her up out of her car seat.

“Haley,” you breathe as you find her at a booth, leaning up against the window with her cheek pressed to it.

She’s dishevelled, her dyed auburn hair knotted on top of her head. She looks hollow. She forces a smile and you’re about to tell her not to take Saskia not wanting to talk to her personally when Saskia launches herself at Haley.

“Hello,” Haley says softly. “Aren’t you special?”

“The most special,” Saskia says with a smile.

“It’s passed your bedtime, you’re very lucky to come out with Mom,” Haley says, pushing Saskia’s hair behind her ear. 

Saskia nods. “I’m bringing you hugs.” 

“Thank you,” Haley smiles. 

You reach over the table and take her hand, squeezing it. 

“Does Aaron know?”

Haley shakes her head.

“Tell him,” you tell her softly. “It’ll make it hurt less when you do it together.” 

“He’d have to know at some point,” Haley smiles softly. Saskia curls herself up in Haley’s lap and puts her head on Haley’s shoulder. “Do you want some apple pie?”

*~PRESENT DAY~*

Rosa’s doesn’t do apple pie anymore. 

Rosa’s isn’t even a full building anymore. 

But it’s raining and you thought of her and the doctor said you should leave the house more. So you left the house to sit in the car in front of a condemned building.

Evidence returned the stuff Haley was wearing. Her pendant necklace hangs from your rearview mirror, swaying from side to side. 

You’ve got your engagement ring back.

You haven’t worn it. 

Haley’s funeral is tomorrow. 

You don’t want to go.

Going makes it real. 

Your phone rings and you watch Aaron’s caller ID flash and flash and flash and—

Answer.

Silence.

“Hey hun,” Aaron says.

“Hi,” you say thickly, wiping at your cheeks. You’re not sure when you started crying. “Sorry, I’ll come home.” 

“Unlock your car door.”

“Huh?”

“I’m getting wet, unlock the door.” He knocks on the window, making you jump.

“Shit,” you say, leaning over and flicking the lock on the door, popping it open.

Aaron slides into the car, discarding his phone to the back seat and shedding his jacket.

“You’re wet,” you say softly like he doesn’t know that he’s been standing in the rain. “There’s a towel—“ you say, reaching to the back seat.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Aaron says softly, touching your arm and turning you back. You’re grateful for it, the knife wounds hurt like a bitch. 

He grabs the towel and scrubs at his hair with it. It stands up on all ends and makes him look like a teenager again. 

“Dave took the kids to his place.”

You look around for Aaron’s car.

“Your dad dropped me off.” 

“Okay,” you respond, slumping in your chair. 

Aaron reaches over, taking your hand and squeezing it. The car is filled with a silence that’s surprisingly comfortable. Full of all the pain and hurt you could possibly imagine but… comfortable. 

You want to say something about Haley. 

You want to say that you miss her.

“I really want apple pie,” is what you actually say. 

Aaron nods. He wipes his face on his shoulder. “There’s a diner up the road.”

“I want Rosa’s apple pie,” you restate.

“I don’t think there’s another Rosa’s around.”

“No Rosa’s, no Haley, this year is really shaping up.” You shove the key into the ignition, turn the car on, and pull out of the car park. 

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know.”

*~2001~*

Felix is on the front porch when you get home. 

He’s tapping his foot impatiently against the floorboards.

You suddenly wish you had taken Haley’s offer of staying at her house. 

You just sit in your car, staring at him, windscreen wipers going. 

Back, forth.

Back, forth.

Back, forth.

“Please leave,” you say as you get out of the car.

He cups his hand behind his ear like he can’t hear you. Bastard.

“Leave, Felix.”

“I thought I could sign our divorce papers.”

“They’re at the office. On your desk.” 

You don’t get Saskia out of the car. You don’t get out of the rain. 

“Right.” He stands, coming out into the rain. “Can we talk about this?”

He comes body to body with you, sticking his hands in your pockets, pulling you to him. 

“Felix, we tried, that’s why we’re here, with divorce papers.” 

He cups your cheek, closing the rest of the distance with a slow, slow kiss. And, fuck, if it doesn’t make you feel like you could try all over again. He pulls back, the rain cascading down between the two of you. 

“Please just let me see her,” he whispers. “One last night, then I’ll be gone forever.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

*~PRESENT DAY~*

“I don’t know that I can do this anymore.”

“Y/n?”

“I don’t know that I can work at the FBI anymore.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m angry, Aaron,” you say, turning down a street you don’t recognise. 

“We’re all angry,” Aaron returns softly and he squeezes your leg.

“I’m angry I didn’t kill them,” you say.

“Them?”

“Felix and Foyet. I can’t sleep because I keep seeing it. I keep seeing all the ways I would kill them, and I… I need to do it. I can’t--”

“Pull over,” Aaron says softly. “Up here.”

You do as he says, gripping the steering wheel.

“I can’t be around the kids. I want to kill Foyet and Felix and all the people that come near the team and I don’t feel bad about it. I want it. I can’t--”

Aaron unbuckles himself, climbing over to the driver’s seat and wedging himself into the seat, unbuckling your seatbelt and pulling you into his arms. 

“This is normal.”

“It’s not normal,” you mumble. “We profile this kind of behaviour.”

“I know that you would only do it to protect the kids,” Aaron says, pressing his lips to your temple. 

“I shouldn’t want to kill them.”

He hesitates for a moment then-- “Do you want to know what it was like when I killed Foyet?”

“Yes.”

*~2001~*

The door’s off the hinges when you get home.

You didn’t want it to happen like this.

Just your front door, swaying in the wind. 

Well, not swaying. Swinging, like someone’s kicked it.

Saskia.

You don’t call the police, not at first, you don’t scream for help. You just run inside, slipping on the blood in your lounge room, catching yourself before you slam into the ground. Instead, you slam into the wall, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Saskia?!” you call out, panicked. Surely that’s the same as screaming for help.

The nursery door is slightly ajar, blood all over the handle and door. You push it open with your foot.

Hundreds of white lilies, dipped in blood, fill the nursery. Like some over exaggerated room of Lucy Westenra’s room when Van Helsing filled it with garlic to keep Dracula from getting to her. You don’t know whose blood it is.

Preserve the scene, your training tells you. 

It doesn’t stop you from trampling over the lilies to get to Saskia’s bed.

“Saskia,” you say again, wrestling with the bars on the side of her bed that keep her from rolling out. “Saskia.”

She’s not moving, blanket pulled over her head. 

No no no no no no no.

“Saskia.”

“Mommy it’s nap time, you need to be quiet,” she presses her finger to her lips. 

Relief flows through you in a strangled sob as you gather her into your arms, pulling her blanket over her head as you press her to your chest. The police turn up as you’re coming out, surrounding the house. They practically make a tunnel to keep the media circus from photographing you.

Someone puts an arm around you, guiding you towards Haley and Aaron.

Haley.

“I’ll take Saskia,” Aaron says softly but somehow it’s Haley that gets Saskia and it’s Aaron that holds you as you collapse. He just rocks you. 

He holds you back when you realise you never looked for Felix and start screaming for him.

Screaming

And screaming

And screaming.

Just like a good, grieving, wife should.

*~PRESENT DAY~*

When Aaron stops talking, you feel better.

A sick part of you likes knowing how it felt for Aaron to feel Foyet’s life leave him. Likes the fact that he begged for mercy and Aaron didn’t give it to him. Because he never gave that to Haley.

“This doesn’t make us horrible parents,” Aaron says softly. “We were given an impossible situation and the people we love were hurt and killed and put in danger. People who never should have been put in danger.”

“But I shouldn’t want to kill someone.”

“Healing,” Aaron says like he believes it. “Although it’s not something we should ever admit at work. Ever.”

“Absolutely not.”

He gives a shaky sigh and drops his face to your shoulder. “I don’t know what to write for the eulogy. I don’t know how to say goodbye to Haley.”

“You’ll find the words. You always find the words.”

“I don’t want to find the words. I don’t want to see the team. I don’t want to stand there and tell them how much Haley meant to me because all they saw was the divorce tearing us apart. It feels… wrong.”

“It feels like personal life and work life never intertwined and here we are,” you say. 

“Yes.” Is all Aaron says. “Do you still want apple pie?”

“Yes.”

“Well, hop in the passenger’s seat, I know a place.”

*~2001~*

“Stay here as long as you need,” Haley says.

You’re in their spare room, sitting on the floor, staring at Saskia as she sleeps. So peacefully. So perfectly. Like nothing’s happened at all. Like there’s nothing wrong in the world, she’s just spent her afternoon rolling on the ground with a grown man who never changed out of his suit. Like she hasn’t been spoiled rotten by Haley and had a thousand hugs and two bowls of ice cream because Aaron decided to feed her his.

“Thank-you,” you whisper.

It’s early in the morning when you get the call.

Unknown number.

You still answer it.

“They know you killed him,” the person says. “And they’re coming for you. For Haley and Aaron, too.”

You don’t wake them before you leave. You write a note, sure, but how are you to know that Haley left the window open and it gets blown under a cupboard and they never see it. 

One night, you were there, the next morning you weren’t anywhere. Your phone’s in a bin in some small ass country town in the wrong direction of where you’re going. That you call David Rossi from a payphone with two simple requests.

“I need you to help me disappear. And I need you to help me close this case.”

And he does just that.

*~PRESENT DAY~*

“This is Dave’s house,” you say.

“He does not have a house, he has a mansion,” Aaron says in a very, very fake Italian accent. Every Italian in the world is rolling over in their graves, and every one of them who’s still alive are digging a grave just so they can roll over in it.

“He doesn’t do apple pie,” you say. 

“He does, I texted him, and he said buying boxed pie was an insult to humanity so he’s made one. Good thing you drove around for so long.”

You look at the time and groan. Aaron had found you at ten. It’s just passed four. 

“You are not a danger to the kids,” Aaron tells you. “Not anymore than I am.”

“Yeah,” you say, shaking your head. “I feel like shit.”

“We do this together,” he tells you as he pulls out the keys and hands them to you. “From parenting to marriage to revenge fantasies.”

“Glad we kept that out of our wedding vowels.”

Aaron grins, leans over, and kisses you lightly. “They’re in our personal, secret, nobody else vowels.”

Dave yells at both of you to shed your wet clothes the moment you get into his house (sorry, mansion) and he thrusts big, fluffy towels at the two of you then tells you that the room you’re staying in is down the hall, to the left, and that there’s clean, dry, clothes there. 

Your jackets stay by the door.

You change into the clothes Dave has set out on the bed.

He lets you all eat apple pie by his fireplace as Jack and Saskia watch Cars for the millionth time that week. He just sits there, with the four of you wrapped in a perfect, protection bubble.

*~2001~*

After Felix had come over, after he’d told you everything was going to be fine, after he put Saskia to bed, after he questioned you as to where you are for hours, after you had sex like you weren’t getting divorced, you do the unthinkable.

Felix says he’ll stay with Saskia.

You go to a phone booth outside a laundrette way out of your way and call Him.

You call the number that’s on the case files.

That no one can trace.

That no one answers on.

“I need you to do it,” you say. 

“Need me to do what?” the man on the other end says. 

You’ve heard his voice before.

On every recording.

“I need you to kill Felix Garza.”

“Consider it done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~this chapter was actually a lot of fun to write. I mean a lot, a lot, a lot, this is ridiculous~


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~funeral~

Aaron’s not asleep.

You’re not asleep.

Saskia’s asleep at the foot of your bed.

Jack’s wedged between the two of you.

“I found what to talk about,” Aaron says. 

You turn your head to him, letting him continue.

“Thought I’d read something from Penzance.”

“Haley would’ve liked that.”

“Yeah.”

Saskia rolls over and whimpers. You sigh, slipping out of bed and pressing your hand to Saskia’s shoulder. She’s had too many nightmares for a kid her age.

“Sassy,” you whisper, stroking her hair. “You’re okay, you’re safe.” 

She spasms slightly in her sleep, whimpering, and even Aaron pulls the covers off, tucking Jack in tight before kneeling beside the bed. There’s not much either of you can do. 

“Sassy,” you whisper again.

She starts from her sleep, sitting up fast. “Mom?” she whimpers and your heart breaks into a thousand pieces.

“Right here, Sweet,” you smile and she launches herself into your arms, burying her face into your neck. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” you repeat over and over and over again.

She whimpers something and all you want to do is pick her up and take her out to the lounge until she stops and just hold her. But you can’t--not because the lounge is full of boxes of small things that are Jack’s, but because you can’t lift anything that heavy. Fucking stitches.

Then she says something that she hasn’t said since you got out of hospital.

Something Dave, Aaron and your dad have all mentioned she hasn’t said.

“Dad?” she whimpers. And it’s scared and soft and precious.

“He’s right here, Sweet,” you tell her, nodding at Aar.

“I want Dad,” she says whimpers again. 

Aaron looks like someone’s whacked him over the head. You’re not even sure he moves. You reach out to him, beckoning him over. He approaches like he’s not sure it’s real, or like Saskia will suddenly get skittish and run off. She peels herself off you slowly, looking at Aaron as if he’s really not there and your brows furrowing at the weird moment between the two of them. 

She reaches out, touching the bridge of his nose where the split skin’s healing.

“Does it hurt?” she asks quietly. Aaron goes to shake his head. “Don’t lie,” Saskia says.

“Not anymore,” Aaron says. 

“Okay,” she says. 

There’s a pause between them. Neither of them say anything. Then Saskia hangs her head, mumbling something, and launches herself into his arms. He leans back, you place a hand on his back, stopping him from tipping. 

She doesn’t say anything coherent as she babbles like she’s a toddler. Aaron closes his eyes, pressing his hand to the back of her head as he sinks his face into her shoulder and she wraps her arms around his neck. 

There’s something soft and right about the image. 

“I don’t want to leave,” Saskia says and you and Aaron suddenly look at each other, brows furrowing. 

“You’re not leaving,” Aaron tells her. “We’re all right here.”

“I really missed you,” she says. 

“I missed you too, Saski.” 

She takes a deep breath and nods and squeezes him super tight. 

“Why would you think we were leaving, Sas?” you ask softly, rubbing her back.

“Whenever someone gets hurt we have to leave.”

Aaron’s eyes go soft and he rocks her, looking to you for support before gathering her up in his arms, cradling her like she’s no bigger than Jack. 

“Last time you had to go away because it wasn’t safe,” Aaron says as she drops her gaze to her lap. He tilts her chin up gently. “We had to do it to keep you and Jack safe.” You note that he keeps Haley out of it, the way he doesn’t quite look at Saskia but distracts her by bouncing his legs nervously. 

“But you guys fight bad guys all the time,” she says.

“Sassy,” you say softly. 

“I know,” Aaron says before you can say anything else. “But do you remember when you visited me in the hospital?” (Saskia nods) “Well, Mom and Auntie Haley and I were worried he would do that to you and Jack, so we agreed that you guys would have to go away to keep everyone safe.”

“But you didn’t come and I was really worried you weren’t going to be here when we came back.” Her voice cracks and her whole body quivers and Aaron pulls her into him, pulling his knees up to encapsulate her entirely.

“I know,” he says quietly, rocking her. “I know, Sweetheart.”

Aaron reaches out for your hand, giving you a soft smile as he squeezes it. 

“Can I keep your hoodie?” Saskia asks softly, pressing her face into Aaron’s shoulder. “I put a hole in it.”

“How’d you do that, then?”

“Got it caught in the closet door when I was hiding with Lakhi.”

Aaron nods and presses a lingering kiss to her hair. “Yes you can. On the weekend I can help you sew it back up, if you’d like.”

“I’d like that a lot,” Saskia says. She splays her hands over his t-shirt, fingers catching on his raised scars. “Do they hurt a lot, like Mommy’s?”

“Sometimes,” he confesses. “But they’re getting better.”

“Spence says family is the best medicine.”

“It most certainly is,” Aaron says. 

“Why’s he got a--” she stops and makes a movement that you can only assume to be Spencer’s walking stick.

“He hurt his knee, it’s a story I’m sure he’d love to tell you.” 

Saskia nods and rubs at her eyes. “I’m tired.” 

“Okay,” Aaron says, lifting her with an exaggerated grunt as he lays her in the bed next to Jack, wrapping her up and kissing her forehead. “Mom and I will be back in a moment.” 

Aaron takes your hand, helping you up off the floor, and the two of you tiptoe out of the room. He’s barely got the door closed before he’s pulling you into a hug, quiet sobs muffled against your shoulder.

It’s become a nightly routine since Haley’s death.

One of you always managed to break just after getting the kids to sleep. 

Tonight it’s both of you.

****

“Do we have to?” Saskia says. 

You drove her to the burial. 

She took the car to the funeral but the seats were sticky and they were sideways and she looked like she might lose it at any moment so you texted Dave and asked him to bring your car.

He’s a good man. 

“Yeah, Sas, we do,” you respond. “It’ll be nice, a way to say goodbye to Haley.”

“Do I have to cry?”

“You can if you want to.”

Saskia shakes her head. “Would Aunty Haley want me to cry? Doesn’t everyone say we should celebrate their life or something.”

“It’s okay to cry,” you reassure her. “Aunty Haley would want you to be true to yourself, no matter what that looks like.”

Saskia scrunches up her face and nods. “This dress is itchy.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“I want to give Aunty Haley a hug. I want to say goodbye.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “That’s what this is for.”

“Why does everyone get to come?” she says, pulling her knees up to her chest. “The team didn’t even know Aunty Haley. Not really. They knew her at work and Aunty Haley wasn’t very nice whenever she got into the FBI building.”

Ironically, a small laugh escapes you. “She wasn’t, was she?”

“She didn’t like the men that have to follow us everywhere,” Saskia says, and a little smile comes over her face. “Sometimes she’d say we should escape them. She would tell me and Jack all the ways we could escape them. We’re not supposed to escape them.”

“No,” you chuckle, reaching over to stroke her head reassuringly. “But that was Aunty Haley, wasn’t it?”

“She would always get me and Jack a biscuit before we came upstairs. I like that.”

“We can get biscuits,” you offer.

Saskia shrugs. “Could we get biscuits and eat them with Aunty Haley? Like Grandad does with his yucky coconut slices when he sees Grandma.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

You glance over the carpark, watching as the cars all start to pull up. Haley’s necklace sways in the rearview mirror. 

Yeah.

You slide it off, holding your birthstone in your hand, sigh and kiss it lightly.

“Sassy, do you want to wear this? It was Aunty Haley’s.”

“Really?” Saskia says, you can tell she’s trying hard not to smile.

“Really,” you confirm, putting the chain over her neck as she leans forward, tucking the pendant into her dress. “When this finishes we have to have a dinner with lots of people that you haven’t met,” you tell her, pushing her hair behind her ear. “But it’s very informal.”

“Informal?”

“Mmmm, finger food. Sitting around a tables. There’ll be some toys, too, you might not want to play with them and that’s okay.”

“Is it okay if I just sit and draw until we leave?”

“Sure,” you say, kissing her temple. “Lots of people are going to want to talk to Jack and Dad and say that they’re sorry and ask if they can help.”

“That’s nice,” Saskia says. You think she might actually mean it.

“So if you need anything, ask me. Dad’s going to be very overwhelmed.”

Saskia nods. “Can I still give him hugs?”

“Of course.”

Dave gives you a small nod as Aaron, Jack arrive with Haley’s casket. Jack holds out his hand for Saskia to hold, his grip tight on Aaron’s fingers. There’s a small look on Aaron’s face that asks if she’s okay, and you nod. She looks conflicted for a moment, then presses her hand to her new pendant and runs to Jack, taking his hand.

It’s not until you take Saskia’s free hand that you realise you’re doing exactly the same thing.

Just standing there, hand pressed to your pendant like it gives you extra strength.

Maybe it does.

****

You’re glad when Dave doesn’t mention the wake is at the building you and Aaron booked for your wedding.

You’re glad when Dave doesn’t mention Haley’s funeral is on the day you would have had your wedding.

You’re not glad Dave conveys this all with a single touch to your back as he finds you outside on the balcony. 

“Are you doing okay?” Dave asks.

“No,” you snap back before hanging your head. “Sorry.”

“That’s why I asked.” Dave squeezes your shoulder and rubs your arm. “Are you and Aaron doing okay?”

You nod.

Dave knows the answer is closer to no.

“C-can you go talk to Aaron?” you ask. “I can’t. Not now. I’m barely holding it together and there’s another three hours left of this shit.”

Dave kisses your cheek and nods. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Yeah.”

He leaves with a lingering hand hold and you give him a tight, brave, sad smile. You pull your pendant out your dress and clutch it tight in your hand, squeezing your eyes shut. 

You pretend like Haley is there. 

How she would have smiled at you, given you an awkward hug that somehow works and is perfect and all Haley and you want one of those hugs again. You want to smell her perfume again that smells horrid on anyone but her. You want her to suddenly appear at the door and ask you what the hell is going on and that she wants to see Jack and--

Two arms wrap around you awkwardly the way Haley used to always do. A small sob escapes you even if you try to swallow it down. You don’t want to open your eyes, not really.

“I’m so sorry,” Emily whispers.

And you lose it entirely. 

All choked sobs and heavy breathing and gasping for air, legs shaking, Emily the only thing keeping you on your feet.

She says nothing.

You say nothing.

She only leaves when Saskia comes out. Emily wipes your cheeks with her thumbs, gives you a small smile as Saskia replaces where Emily had been. 

“Grandma’s looking after Aunty Haley,” Saskia says simply.

“Sas--”

“Grandad made me take a nap and I had this dream but it felt real. Grandma let me and Aunty Haley hang out and we ate fries and Aunty Haley told me she was proud of me and then Grandma said to tell you she’s looking after Aunty Haley and Spud.”

“Who’s Spud?” you ask with a frown.

“He’s almost two, Mom. And he’s really squishy and he likes yoghurt buttons and cuddles.”

She says it so simply that she can’t be lying. But you and Aaron never said anything to the kids about the baby you lost. You never told Saskia. She doesn’t need to know babies die. Nobody should need to know that. 

You wrap your arms around her, squeezing her close to you, and kiss her hair.

You can’t explain Saskia’s dream. You can’t discount it either. All that matters is that it seems to have given Saskia some sort of closure.

“I love you,” you tell her in lieu of saying anything that might upset her.

“I love you too, Mommy,” she says back with the same intention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a. Saskia didn't see Spencer before she left  
> b. Saskia being a tiny bit clairvoyent sometimes? maybe.  
> c. these guys need therapy  
> d. we've got some more funeral to do, then clearing out Haley's house, and the therapist. (and a very big mom and dad break down)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all are in for a ride.

“You need a break,” Morgan says.

The balcony was less private than you thought so you’ve found a little room out of the way.

Somehow Morgan still seems to find you.

You wipe your cheeks, glaring at him with no malice in it.

“That’s what this was for,” you say weakly. It’s supposed to be snappy but it’s not. 

It’s not really anything.

Morgan sits beside you, clasping his hands in his lap. 

“Long day,” he says.

“Yeah,” you agree.

He lets you sit there, not saying anything. You sigh, pulling your knees up to your chest and bump him softly with your shoulder. It’s not because you want to say anything. It’s more a thank-you. He bumps you back.

“I thought this would be easier,” you confess quietly. Morgan turns to you and doesn’t say anything. “I thought maybe knowing that Haley would do this all over again to keep Jack safe would make it hurt less. And that knowing Foyet’s dead--” you groan, unable to finish. 

“You’re allowed to miss her, she was your friend,” Morgan says.

“I know,” you say even though you don’t quite believe it. “I should’ve done more.”

“You couldn’t have done more.”

“Of course I could have.”

Morgan nods. Maybe he’s agreeing with you. Maybe he’s just letting you wallow.

“You can blame yourself all you want, and Hotch can blame himself too,” he says, reaching over to squeeze your hand. “But those kids need you. And you and Hotch need each other. Jack and Saskia would never ever blame you and Hotch, they understand you did everything you could.”

“I should--” 

“If you’d done anything different, we would be burying both of you right now. I’m sure of it. I saw that video, the way he just…” Yeah, you know what Foyet did to you. “He would have found where Haley was, one way or another, and I, for one, am grateful that you’re here.”

“I don’t want to be here,” you confess, horrifying yourself.

“Give me your phone.”

“Morgan--”

“Phone.”

“Der--”

“Phone.”

You groan and hand it over. He holds it out to you again for the passcode then scrolls and scrolls and scrolls through your photos until he finds the one he’s looking for and sets it as you lock and home screen. 

“These are just some of the people who are grateful you’re alive,” he says, holding it out so you can see a picture someone had taken on your phone. You’re not sure who. It’s you, Aaron, Jack and Saskia on the floor of Aaron’s office, Saskia’s showing Aaron her nintendogs (you know because Aaron has his ‘virtual puppy looking’ face on), and you’re completely dead to the world with Jack over your chest.

Then he takes the phone away and texts someone. You’re not sure who, but then he’s giving you back your phone.

“And you’re seeing your therapist on Monday.”

“Totally out of line,” you mumble, but you’re grateful he’s done it.

“Totally out of line that you feel like this and you haven’t seen anyone about it,” Morgan says simply. “I know losing Haley is hard, but don’t lose yourself. Please.”

“I’ll try.”

You drop your eyes and unlock your phone, frowning and snorting at the selfie of Derek and Penelope, Spencer squished between the two of them, Emily and JJ somehow jumping into frame behind them even though they’re behind the window.

“Is this my office?” you frown, but you laugh just a little looking at it.

“It’s from when you were moving all your stuff in. Rossi took you and Saskia out for afternoon tea and we broke in.”

“It’s not breaking in if the door’s unlocked.”

“So that’s why your paperwork is so hard to do,” Morgan says with a snort. “Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

You think about it. “Whenever we were at Dave’s.” Certainly wasn’t today and probably wasn’t yesterday.

“There’s sandwiches out there.”

“I don’t want a sandwich.”

“Well it’s a good thing Pretty Boy packed extras of Saskia’s favourite biscuits.” He stands and extends an arm to you, pulling you up. “My Mom says you should treat yourself like you’re your own child. You wouldn’t let Saskia blame herself if she was in your shoes would you?”

“No.”

“Then don’t let yourself feel like that.”

“Thanks, Derek.”

He shakes his head and pulls you in for a hug. It’s only quick but you know he means it. 

You don’t want to sit at the table. You don’t want to see the team. You feel deflated and broken and like your limbs aren’t your own. Saskia’s sitting in Spencer’s lap, not listening to the table, but she’s drawing something and you’re pretty sure it’s on the table cloth. JJ seems to be actively trying to ignore it but there’s something in the way she keeps side eyeing Spence and then he leans in and encourages Saskia to do it again. 

It looks… normal.

You don’t have time for normal, not now.

“I’m uh, going to get some air, Derek.”

He looks you over quickly and nods. “Sure, but you’ve got to eat.”

“Yeah,” you brush him off and push the doors open, slipping out onto the balcony. 

Dave and Aaron both turn to you and you jump.

“Shit, sorry,” you say quietly, turning back to the door. 

Aaron just holds his hand out, giving a tight lipped smile. Looks a lot like how Spence smiles at you when he doesn’t want to admit he’s not okay. You take his hand, letting him pull into his side, resting his chin on your head.

“Where’s Sas?”

“Spence. Jack’s with Jess. Dad’s with Haley’s parents.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Daves offers you his drink. 

“I can’t. Painkillers.” 

He apologises and takes it back. Aaron squeezes your hand. 

“Did you see Jen and Cath?” you ask, breaking up the silence. “They, uh, said they were going to talk to you but I dunno if they got around to it.”

“Jen gave us a couple of casseroles.”

“That’s nice.”

“Do you remember what Jen’s cooking is like?” Aaron scoffs. It’s the closest to humour you’ve heard for a while. 

“I’d hope it’s gotten better since ‘91.”

“I don’t,” Aaron says. “That’s one horror we should pass down to the kids.”

“I’ll keep pizza on speed dial.” 

Dave looks like he’s itching to scold the two of you because the pizza you order is very far from ‘good’ pizza. It’s just pizza that Saskia actually eats. She wouldn’t touch the authentic stuff Dave bought her.

“You can both get through this,” Dave says. He’s serious. Of course he’s serious.

“Yeah, I know,” you say quietly. Dave grabs your chin softly and squeezes it, conveying exactly what he’s said all over again only this time without the words.

Aaron might nod. You’re not sure. 

“You’ll both find the tools to get through this, you will.”

“Dave,” you say softly. 

“You’re both stronger than you think you are.”

Morgan comes out tentatively, handing you a packet of the Scooby Snacks Saskia loves. They’re really just vanilla sugar cookies but if she wants to love them, she can go for it.

“I’m sorry, but we just got called in,” Morgan says. “We have to go.”

“Call me if you need anything,” Aaron responds, letting go of your hand to shake Morgan’s. 

“Take care of your son,” Morgan says, holding Aaron’s eyes for longer than feels comfortable. There’s a small interaction between them then Morgan kisses your cheek softly.

You close your eyes and nod.

You don’t have to say anything. You get it.

“Thank you, Derek.”

He nods and goes back to the team. Saskia’s giving Spence a hug, you can feel the ferocity in it from here. Spence glances at Emily and you watch as she smiles, nodding to him. Your brow furrows as Spence pulls his purple scarf off and puts it over Saskia’s neck before walking off with the team. You smile softly at her, nodding as she silently asks if she can stay at the table. 

“Are you guys going to be okay?” 

You give him a single nod. Not very convincing.

“We’ll see you when you’re back,” Aaron says.

Dave nods but he looks conflicted as he walks off. You open the bag of biscuits and offer some to Aaron who nods softly and takes one, pressing it to the roof of his mouth until it’s too soggy to be a biscuit anymore.

“That’s disgusting,” you say softly, pressing your cheek into his arm. 

“Do you want some?” he says back. For a moment you think he’s back to his joking self but he’s just pushing the bag closer to you.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Two,” he says like he’s trying to get Jack to eat his broccoli. He picks two biscuits out and puts them in the hand.

You eat them.

“Can we get pasta on the way home? I’m starved.”

Aaron nods, nuzzling your hair.

“Sure.”

****

“Where’d it go?” Aaron asks, flicking at the thin air where Haley’s necklace had been in your car.

Jack and Saskia are asleep in the backseat, Saskia wrapped up safely in Spencer’s scarf, her hand in Jack’s. She’s got the pendant out from under her dress and you’re sure she’s been fiddling with it since she put it on. 

“Sas is wearing it,” you say quietly.

Aaron twists back in his chair and smiles, just a little bit. “Haley would have liked that.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

“Sas had a dream,” you say quietly as you turn the car down the street towards the only shop that does late night take away pasta that doesn’t taste like shit. “That, uh, my mom and Haley are hanging out. They ate fries.”

Aaron chuckles, pinching his hand. “I never met your mom but from what your dad said of her, Haley and your mom would be giving God a run for his money.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, probably.”

“There’s something else,” Aaron prods. 

“No,” you say, shaking your head. Aaron lets the silence continue. “Yeah. I don’t… God, I’m going to sound crazy.” You tap your fingers against the steering wheel. “I don’t think she was making it up.”

Aaron doesn’t scoff at you or laugh, he just leans his cheek against the headrest of his chair.

“Of course Sas wasn’t making it up, she always tells us about her dreams.”

“No, I don’t think it was just a dream.” (Aaron keeps watching you). “When I died--” You look into the back seat to make sure the kids really are asleep-- “I saw Mom.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t think I’m crazy?”

“Nope,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ve listened to Reid postulate about the afterlife too many times to discount anyone’s experience with it. What was she like?”

“Not at all like I remember her. But she… she was everything like I remember her. She called Saskia my Valley of Light.”

“You never told Sas that?”

“No, why?”

“Then whatever weird space this is all in, Sas met her.” He seems content with the knowledge. “She was telling Jess’s kids that she was a Valley of Light.”

“Huh.” You pull into the pasta place’s car park. “Mom has the baby too. Mom and Haley.”

“They’re in good hands,” Aaron says softly, cupping your face. “Do you want the usual?”

“Yeah, please.”

“I love you,” Aaron says quietly, kissing you lightly. “I’ll be back.”

****

It’s raining when you clear out Haley’s house. When you pack everything up in boxes and tape it closed and try to make it just going through motions. 

You keep Haley’s perfume. 

Aaron keeps the upcycled chair from her dresser.

Jack keeps a handful of his favourite necklaces (although, you and Aaron do pack away her entire jewellery box).

Saskia keeps a wooden spoon and her favourite of Haley’s jackets.

Aaron finds your wedding dress in it’s box at the back of Haley’s cupboard, accompanied by your shoes from your wedding to Felix. She’s had little jewels put around the heels, and the soles she’s had… sealed? There’s a clear resin over the little notes Aaron and Haley had written on them when you’d all gotten a little too drunk at the reception. 

Aaron squeezes your shoulder as he sits with you, leaning his back up against the doorframe of the wardrobe. 

“Do we postpone again?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “I can’t… I mean, I can, but I can’t. It…”

“Haley needs to be there,” Aaron says.

You nod.

“Yeah.” You take Aaron’s hand. “We’ll find a way, Aar. We need to do this for the kids. After all of this shit, after the last… what, two years now? That we’ve all been in this bubble? Fuck, we need to do something.”

“Y’know, we had a one year wedding anniversary while you were in WITSEC.”

“Congrats us,” you smile, even if it’s a little forced. You rock forward and kiss him lightly. “I love you, I’m sorry we’re postponing again.”

“It’s my choice too, don’t apologise,” Aaron murmurs against your lips. “We’re almost done, then we can go home.”

****

When Strauss comes it’s an effort to get out of bed.

Saskia didn’t sleep, not really, and you had a nightmare that was enough to wake the whole apartment building. It took far too long to coax yourself down, even when Aaron carried you out of the bedroom because neither of you wanted to scare the kids. 

So of course it’s the day Strauss turns up.

Saskia pulls Aaron’s hoodie on over her pj’s and wanders out, just because she’s curious as to who the person is. You’re slower to filter your way out, getting out of your pj’s and trying to make yourself look human.

“Hello,” Strauss says with a small smile as you wander out.

“Hey,” you respond as Jack turns excitedly to you.

“Ammi!” he says, twisting his entire body in his chair. “Come help.”

So you help him organise his cars into colours like Saskia’s done in her room. 

“May I offer you something,” Strauss says, pressing her hand to your back.

“Sure?” you respond, brushing your hands off on your pants as she hands you a stack of papers. “Retirement?”

“Think about it.” She gives you a smile like she knows what you’re going through. “Agent Shakespeare said he has you covered for as long as you need.”

“I know,” you say softly. “I talked to Billy.”

“Just think about it.”

“Sure.”

****

When it breaks, it breaks. 

You’re at Dave’s. He’s got the kids in two rooms downstairs, under blankets that make them look like they’re royals. 

You’re pulling back the bed with Aaron and you’ve got no idea what triggered it. Maybe it was the fact that you’ve felt like a mess all day, that Aaron spent hours reminding you about simple tasks, that you forgot to pick up Saskia from school but you remembered to bring flowers to Haley. That for most of the day you stayed in bed, staring at your hand like you’d done in WITSEC only Haley would launch herself on the bed to see how many times the mattress would bounce her and you’d end up accidentally smacking her in the face.

Maybe it’s that you knock Aaron’s favourite desk clock off the bedside table and it shatters and it tells you it’s okay.

It’s not okay.

“Can’t you just get mad at me?” you snap.

“I’m not mad,” Aaron says. 

“You should be, I fucking broke your favourite clock!”

“I’m not mad,” Aaron repeats. 

“God, Aaron, I killed her, you can’t stand there and keep pretending like you love me!”

“I’m not pretending!”

“Listen to me, Aaron! I did that, I got us here, me!” you don’t realise you much you’ve raised your voice until you’re jabbing at your chest. 

“You didn’t kill her!”

“SHE WAS SAFE, AARON. I TOLD HER SHE WAS SAFE AND SHE WASN’T.”

“By that logic, we’re both at fault!” Aaron snaps back. “We had to tell Haley she was safe, we had to tell you that you were safe. And now we’re here!”

“Because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut!”

“God, this isn’t your fault!”

“ISN’T MY FAULT? AARON, I TOLD HIM SAM WAS HER HANDLER. I HAVE YEARS OF TORTURE TRAINING AND I JUST TOLD HIM! I can keep a secret from EVERYONE for almost a DECADE and I couldn't keep this from Foyet.”

Saying it out loud, for the first time, makes it hurt so much. You choke back a sob, practically running for the ensuite and slamming the door shut, leaning your weight against it as you sob.

Aaron pushes on the door and you push back.

“Baby, I’m not mad at you.” You listen as he slides down the door, sitting back to back with you. “I couldn’t get there in time. I’d dedicated months of my life to this, to bring you guys home safe, and instead I listened to Foyet shoot Haley. And I didn’t even think about finding you after, if Shakespeare hadn’t found you when he--God, if anyone should be mad, it’s you. You should be mad at me that I just gave up.”

“You didn’t give up, Aaron.”

“You didn’t kill Haley, Y/n.” There’s a sizable silence and then Aaron sighs. “Can you open the door, please?”

Reluctantly you reach up, pulling the handle down and scooching forward so the door opens. He crawls in on his hands and knees, sitting beside you.

“Foyet knew Kassmeyer was her handler before he got to you,” Aaron says, taking your hand. “He’d been following him for months. Taking photos. I’m going to say it again, this is not your fault.”

“Oh,” you say softly. Does it make you feel better? A little. “Foyet always intended on you and the team not finding me. He wanted S--Saskia to find me, for her to be stuck with me dying before you all turned up too late. I never thought you forgot me.” 

“So what’s this secret, then?”

“I got Felix killed.”

“That’s not a secret, baby. He was trying to kill Saskia and you okay’d a shot, that’s not a secret.”

“Before that,” you say quietly, taking your hand back. “Before I got into all this shit. Before I started making deals with serial killers.”

There’s no going back now. 

“I, um, called the number on our case files. Of the White Lily Killer. And I told him to do it… to kill Felix. It wasn’t to solve the case or anything, it was because I wanted him gone. I didn’t want to be his puppet anymore.” You blow out your cheeks. “Then I let you and Haley think I was grieving him. I lied to you over and over and over.”

The silence stretches on. 

And on.

And on.

There’s no way Aaron won’t turn you in.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” you say. “Just, um, give me 48 hours I’ll get me and Sas out. I don’t want her to get tangled up in all of this. You can probably get a refund on the dress, I’m sure Hales kept the receipt.”

You tap his knee, eyes misting over at the blank look on his face, and kiss his cheek.

“I love you,” you say softly before standing and sliding yourself out of the ensuite. 

You grab a couple of things from the bedside table, putting them in your bag before you start down the stairs to Saskia’s bedroom. 

“Wait,” Aaron says, grabbing your elbow.

“Aaron, don’t, please.”

“I’m not,” Aaron says and you think he might finish but he grabs the back of your head, bringing you in for a rough, heartfelt kiss that takes your breath away. Properly. You’re grasping at his shirt and arching against him as he kisses you so hard you’re sure your lips will bruise.

“I’m not turning you in,” he says quietly, acutely aware that Dave’s somewhere downstairs. “Not ever.”

“Aaron, I told a serial killer to take out my husband.”

There’s something that flashes over his eyes, maybe… lust? You’re not sure.

“You were terrified of him. You made me write up a second profile for free and Felix matched every category. A part of you knew, and you did what you could to keep you and Sas safe.” He pulls you close to him, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Before all this, before Felix came back and before Foyet I would have been furious. But Felix faked his own death to torture you, and your wrong--very wrong--choice saved four lives that day and I can’t argue with that.”

“Aar…”

“I don't care what you did. We’re even.” He strokes your cheek. “Please come to bed. Please don’t leave.”

“Kiss me like that again and I will.”

So he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~yup this chapter just *happened*~  
> ~sex&therapy next chapter (but not sex as therapy)~


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes i just use words and think ~gross~ and this chapter has a couple of those words.  
> ~only short short short short~

“Rossi,” Morgan calls as he walks into Dave’s house.

Dave doesn’t have an open door policy, but after everything that’s gone on in the last year he’s made a few exceptions. He just pulls out another glass and pours Morgan wine as he comes into the kitchen.

“Are they going to be okay?” Morgan asks, taking the drink like he’s expected it the whole time. 

Dave’s about to tell him something like ‘of course they are’ when the yelling starts. 

He leans back against the countertop, cradling his wine, and listens like he’s watching an episode of Desperate Housewives. Morgan’s gaze falls into his own wine glass, hanging his head like he’s listening to his parents fight.

Then there’s silence. 

God knows it drags on for too long, Morgan and Dave drain their wine and fill them back up again. 

Saskia comes in, all bedhead and heavy eyes, and presses herself up against Dave’s side.

“Mom and Dad are okay,” Dave says. “They’re just working through some stuff.”

“I know,” Saskia says, pulling a disgusted face. “They’re kissing on the stairs.”

“Gross,” Morgan chuckles.

“Gross,” Saskia agrees.

****

“You do care what I did,” you say as you drop your (maybe over dramatic) bag to the floor of your temporary room. 

“Yeah,” Aaron says softly as he wraps his arms around your waist. “I’d prefer if you didn’t do it to me.”

You squeeze Aaron’s jaw, a wave of sadness washing through you. “Never, Aar.”

He sighs. A part of him is being over dramatic for your own peace of mind, but you notice the way his shoulders slump and he doesn’t quite meet your eyes like he’s relieved. 

“Can we talk about it later? With clear heads?” he whispers, leaning into you.

“Yeah, we’ll put a pin in it.”

He nods, running his hands over your face like he’s trying to prove something to himself, then pulls you into him, kissing you tentatively like he’s not entirely sure you’re really there. But then--

There it is.

He pushes you back until your knees are hitting the mattress, and you’re stumbling to keep yourself upright because Dave’s actually got really nice sheets. Better sheets than anything you and Aaron have in the cupboard. 

It’s been months. 

More than months. 

There wasn’t anything after Foyet stabbed Aaron, not before you went into witness protection. And nothing--nothing until now. 

Until now.

You tentatively press your hands to his pj shirt, fingers nervously covering his scars.

Sure, you’ve seen them.

You helped him put on the wound cream for 33 days. 

But not like this. 

You haven’t… seen them.

Aaron hesitates, eyes dancing over you.

“You can leave it on, if you want,” you offer.

He drops his head to your shoulder, shaking it lightly. “I don’t want to.”

“Okay,” you say softly. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Yeah,” Aaron breathes as you push him gently onto the mattress, pulling his shirt off and throwing it to the floor.

You want to say something like ‘shit’ but Aaron’s already looking vulnerable enough like this, his eyes squeezed shut. So, yeah, you leave it. You just crawl up the bed and sit beside him, running your hands through his hair.

“Aar, I told you to tell me. This isn’t about being quiet to make it easier for the other person.”

He pops an eye open and smirks. “Take your own advice.” And then he’s sitting up, pulling you into his lap with little effort.

“Don’t deflect,” you say but it’s completely lost with the way Aaron starts kissing your body over and over, hands avoiding your own scars. 

“We don’t have any condoms,” Aaron pants, pulling back from the bruise he’s sucking to life on your breast. 

“I don’t care,” you murmur. 

“You should,” he responds quietly, hand sliding between the two of you, rubbing you over your panties. “We--”

“Can’t afford to get pregnant, I know,” you say, hips involuntarily bucking against his hand. “But it’s not like anything--”

You’re cut off by Aaron kissing you, shuffling the two of you so you’re at a better angle. You moan into Aaron’s mouth, grinding onto his hand. 

“Please,” you find yourself moaning into him. “Please--”

Aaron coaxes you through your first orgasm of the night. God, it’s so much better than anything you’d managed in WITSEC. There’s a box of condoms in the bedside table drawer that you don’t want to think about but, honestly, thank god.

When you’re both completely spent, Aaron’s got an arm thrown over you, face pressed into your neck. You stroke his arm, eyes struggling to stay open.

“Sleep,” Aaron mumbles into your neck.

“Are the kids going to be okay?” you ask into the darkness.

“Yeah,” Aaron says. 

You turn your head to him, kissing his hair. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Aaron murmurs.

****

“How often does that happen?” Morgan asks Dave, pointing upstairs.

Dave purses his lips, thinks he might not answer, then shrugs. “This would be a first.”

“Think they’ll pull through?”

“Here’s hoping.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this really was just a filler rip


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~the ending has references to 5x11, i know it's vague but like it is~

“Aaron?” you say, poking your head around his door into the study. He looks up guiltily from a file he was looking at, dropping it to the table. “God, don’t get guilty, I was just doing the same thing.”

“What’s up?”

“I wanted to ask you something,” you say, wringing your hands as you come into his study and perch yourself on the edge of his desk. “Th-this isn’t me giving you a criticism, in no way, but… would you mind seeing a therapist?”

“Why would I think that was a criticism?”

“Because everytime I played it out in my head I couldn’t make it not sound like ‘you need to see a therapist’. We all do. But fuck it sounds harsh.”

“I don’t think it seems harsh,” Aaron says, shaking his head. “I’m already seeing a therapist.”

“I mean not a bureau sanctioned one.” This gets his attention. “Sas and I see someone that doesn’t report back to the bureau. And then we see Jan, the one near Strauss’s office. Jan’s great, trust me, there’s nothing wrong with seeing her, but sometimes it’s nice to see someone who doesn’t have to alert the bureau every time you say something questionable.”

“Two therapists?” Aaron sighs, rubbing his eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” you respond. “One you don’t have to lie to.”

“I don’t have to lie to my therapist.”

“We both know you do,” you tease. “It’ll be good for Jack to see someone too, Aaron.”

“I know.”

“Connie and Raj are really good, super informal.”

Aaron nods slowly, leaning back in his chair. “You’re sure? I don’t want Jack and I to step on your toes, I know Saskia likes her afternoons after therapy with you.”

“Saskia spends most of them making sure you and Jack had treats when we got home,” you counter. You lean forward, taking his hands in yours. “I’m serious, Aaron, and I’m sure.”

“They’ll be good with Jack?”

“They’re not going to make the kids relive anything they don’t remember.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Aar. Sas saw them after Felix’s death, she’s not fucked up.”

“She was Jack’s age, right?”

“Mhmm.”

He nods. “Yeah, okay. We’ll see them.”

“Thank-you,” you whisper, leaning forward and kissing him lightly. “I’ll leave you to your paperwork.”

“No, no, I shouldn’t be working,” Aaron says like he wasn’t about to write up a bunch of profiles on the guy down the hall just for fun. “Where are Jack and Sas?”

“Sas is letting Jack help her build a dollhouse for her littlest pet shops,” you say, looking up at the ceiling. “When I say ‘letting’, she’s given him the mice room and is micromanaging every move, and she’s already made a room to replace it if Jack doesn’t do it just right.”

“She really is your daughter.”

“Tell me about it.”

He grabs your hand, stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “You look like you’re doing better,” he says quietly. 

“Did you tell Jess I was sorry I couldn’t come out for dinner?” 

“Only after Saskia told her a thousand times.” He tugs your hand, shuffling back enough that you can comfortably sit in his lap, hooking his arm over your legs. “We need to talk about going back to work.”

“Do you want to?”

He looks over the files on his desk and shrugs. “I want to be here for Jack, and I don’t know how I can do that if I’m at work.”

You nod. “You’d have to cut office time substantially. That doesn’t mean cutting your workload, though.”

“Yes it does.”

“Nuh uh, it minds finding new places to do it. No more leaving files out on the coffee table or bringing home boxes and boxes, you only bring what you can fit in here. Just like when me and Sas are here.”

Aaron smirks. “You’re not mad that I want to go back?”

“No.” You brush his temples lightly. “I always knew. Haley always knew.”

Aaron smirks. “Of course she did.” It’s followed by a comfortable silence, Aaron pressing his face into your shoulder. “Do you think you’ll come back?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I wasn’t intending to come back at all,” you say quietly. “When I moved in with dad I was going to get a desk job and be miserable but it meant I wasn’t putting people in danger anymore. But then Dave and Dad decided to ambush me and.” You shrug.”I like my job. I really, really do but I… I left so this wouldn’t happen.”

“This wasn’t your fault,” Aaron whispers.

“I know,” you respond even though you both know you don’t believe it.

“But I understand if you don’t want to come back to work.” 

You sigh, cupping his face. “I will, at some point, but I need to make sure I’m okay first.”

It’s weird to admit out loud. Aaron gives you a tiny smile and nods, angling his knees so you slide down closer to him. 

“Anything you choose, I’ll support you.”

“Are you supporting yourself?”

“I’m getting there.”

****

Connie and Raj see you and Saskia off the clock, which is why they never have to report to higher ups. You meet at their house, which is always full of cheap magazines and plastic toys that Saskia finds fascinating at Connie and Raj’s only.

“Connie!” Saskia says the moment you’re through the door. “This is Dad and Jack!”

Connie smiles warmly at Saskia, letting Saskia come to her for a hug. She wraps her arms around Saskia and kisses her head twice, telling her that Raj is in the kitchen if she wants to help with the lemonade.

“Can I take Jack?” Saskia asks before turning to Aaron and repeating the question.

It’s just subtle, but Aaron looks to you before he nods. Then the kids are off, skipping to the kitchen.

“There’s no pressure today,” Connie says, motioning to her lounge. “I just want to get to know you today, definitely without the bias that comes from that little girl in there. She absolutely worships you.”

Aaron blushes and hangs his head. Bless him. 

Connie gives you a look that tells you to stay until Aaron’s comfortable. You make small talk with Connie, occasionally diving a little deeper into how you’d really felt since the last time you saw her. It mainly just skimming over the surface but you know that Connie has made a note on how many times you just didn’t want to get out of bed.

Aaron keeps walking around the room, looking over the framed photographs of Connie and Raj, their book collections, the amount of dust that had accumulated on the top two shelves despite everything else being polished.

“Are you going back to work?” Connie asks, eyeing off Saskia and Jack who come in with the lemonade. She makes this look like ‘is this something you can discuss in front of the kids?’.

“I don’t know,” you say, kissing Saskia’s cheek as she collapses onto the couch next to you and pressing herself up against you. “Aaron is though,” you say.

Aaron nods.

“Structure is good,” Connie says.

“Yeah,” is all Aaron says. 

“Can I go talk to Raj?” Saskia asks. Connie nods and gives her a warm, warm smile. 

“And how do you both feel about one of you going back to work?” Connie asks.

And finally Aaron sits down.

And he starts talking.

****

“How was work?” you ask Aaron as he sneaks in through the door, toeing his shoes off so he won’t wake the kids while he taps around.

“Tough case,” he says, kissing your hair. “Reid and Garcia want to come over for dinner.”

“What day?”

“Dunno.”

“Give me a day and I’ll put a plate out for them.”

“Understood.”

He loosens his tie, pulling it over his head and undoing his shirt buttons. He holds up a finger before he tiptoes down the hall, kissing Jack and Saskia good night even though they’re already asleep. When he comes back out his hair is all mussed, tie discarded somewhere that you’ll probably find while blindly blundering across the floor later in the night.

“Can I ask you something?” he says as he pulls his plate of pizza out of the oven, blowing on his fingertips because he’s an idiot and didn’t use the oven mits.

“Yah, the mat’s on the bench hun.”

He gasps dramatically but you know his fingers are going to hurt like a bitch. He juggles the two as he takes a seat across from you.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me going back on cases?”

“Yes, Aaron, I would tell you if I wasn’t.” You watch as he avoids looking at you, picking at the pizza and pulling off the pieces that were put on by Saskia. “Do you want me to tell you that I’m not?”

“No, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay.” He peels the crust off his pizza and chews on it. “I want to ask you a serious question.”

“Full of questions,” you say softly, taking the pizza he offers you.

“What do we do if one of us gets in trouble?” he says. “I mean, proper trouble.”

“Trouble?”

He sighs, rubbing his forehead. “The… the case we just closed… the guy was an undercover cop, the unsub kidnapped his family and held them hostage and--”

You shuffle closer to him as his eyes start their nervous flicking. 

“Aaron,” you say softly, taking his hand as he shakes. You grab the plate, discarding it to the coffee table and pulling him into your arms. He holds onto you so tight you think he might crush you. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Aaron sobs into you. 

“I know, baby, I know.” You rub his back, nuzzling your nose into his hair. “We’ll be okay.”

“We need somewhere out of town that no one knows about,” Aaron says when he stops sobbing, but he’s still clinging onto you for dear life. “I just need to know you’ve all got somewhere to go.”

“We,” you correct. “Somewhere we can go.”

“Somewhere we can go,” he echoes.

“Are you going to take some time off tomorrow?”

He shakes his head then sighs. “Yeah. I need to see the kids.”

“Saski’s got school, if you’re up at 7.30 you can have breakfast with her.”

Aaron smiles against you and nods.

“I’ll remember that.”

“We can make a time to look at houses tomorrow. Right now you need some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep,” he murmurs.

“I need someone to hold me while I sleep.”

Aaron smirks and nods. “I can hold you while you sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another short one!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternatively named: mom and hotch adopt penelope into their fam and aaron works through a nightmare

“Hello!” Garcia says as she comes into the house all rainbows and sunshine and places a dish of vegetarian tacos on the kitchen bench before enveloping you in a hug.

“Hi Pen,” you say with as much forced enthusiasm as you can muster. 

Spence unloads his bag onto the counter (tea, tea, tea, Saskia’s favourite lollies and some ice cream).

“Spence, what did you do to your knee?” You ask. It’s been far too long since you’ve properly had time to catch up with him. 

“I got shot,” he says, almost proud of himself.

“Shit,” you say softly. 

“I’m okay!” He says quickly, replacing Garcia’s hug with his own. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, Spence,” you say softly. If the way he squeezes you is anything to go by, he doesn’t believe it. 

“Spencie!” Saskia yells excitedly, running into the room and running towards him. He manages to turn and meet her full bodied slam into him. “Hi Aunty Penny!”

“Hello,” Penny says, squeezing her tight when she switches her hug to Penny.

“Where’s Jack?” you ask softly, pushing her hair back from her face. 

“With Dad,” Saskia says then she’s pulling them towards the couch and showing them her dolls house that’s been living on the coffee table since she built it. “They’re talking to Ammi.”

“Did you talk to Ammi?”

Saskia does her brave, single nod, that she learnt from Aaron. “Can we see her tomorrow?”

“Sure, after school?”

“Mhmm,” she says then she’s telling Garcia about what shades of paint she used and the wall paper was from an origami paper set.

You start putting dinner together, pulling out the ingredients and trying to read Garcia’s handwriting when Jack and Aaron come out. Spence and Garcia actively avoid mentioning that his eyes are red and his sleeves are wet, although Saskia does do the ‘are you okay?’ face.

Jack comes over, taps your leg the way he always does when he wants a hug and you give him a strong hug, rocking him side to side until he kisses you cheek and says that he wants to play with Saski.

Garcia joins you when you ask her what the hell something says, and bounces on her toes between translations like she’s itching to ask you something.

However, you don’t get the opportunity to prompt her because the moment your hands are free she grabs you into a bone crushing hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she says, rubbing your back. “I was so worried.”

“Of course I’m okay,” you laugh weakly, squeezing her. “What’s brought this on?”

She frowns at you, then hugs you quickly again. “You really don’t know?”

“No?”

“That’s why Hotch hasn’t asked about it.”

“Asked about what?”

“The video,” Garcia says so low you barely hear her. She turns her back to Aaron, Spence, Saskia and Jack, and explains to you that the delayed live stream Foyet had promised to send to Garcia had actually sent. So much for shooting the laptop, you think. 

And frown.

You don’t think you’ve seen Shakespeare’s Elle since that day, she kind of just disappeared.

“I am so sorry you had to see it,” you say to Garcia, reaching out to squeeze her hand. 

“I didn’t see all of it,” she says like it means she hasn’t accumulated any trauma from it. “But Derek…” Penelope blows out her cheeks. “He watched the whole thing while you were in surgery. Frame by frame.”

You nod slowly, and suddenly Morgan staying by your side all night at the hospital makes sense.

“Strauss, Derek and I know, that’s all,” Garcia finishes.

“I appreciate that, Pen,” you say softly, rubbing her arm. “I think Aaron’s better off not knowing right now.”

“Of course,” she smiles. “Miss Saskia requested this for dinner, I hope it’s alright.”

“It’s alright, Pen, it’s very nice of you to bring dinner with you.”

“I’ll do anything for that little angel. It’s nice seeing her texts pop up again.”

You smile at her. “Yeah, Saskia likes being the centre of attention again.

****

Garcia and Spence are both passed out on the couch, tangled up in a weird way where they’ve managed to use each other as pillows. You and Aaron spend a little too long frowning at them, trying to figure out how in the world they’re comfortable and come to the conclusion that they’re too young to be uncomfortable. 

Jack and Saskia are asleep--in their own bed, thank god.

“You doing okay?” Aaron asks as he hands you your pj’s.

“Yeah,” you say softly, cocking an eyebrow.

“It’s just the most people you’ve seen since the funeral. Saskia and Jack tapped out early, I didn’t expect you to stay.”

“Seeing people is weird,” you sigh, rubbing at your eyebrow. “Me and Dad and Hales didn’t see anyone but Kassmeyer and Billy the whole time. It feels illegal to have people over.”

“Is that why Sas stays away from the windows?”

“Yeah. It’s just a lot to adjust to.”

“I understand,” he says, and you refrain from saying ‘no you don’t’.

“I’m glad I’m home, though,” you say quietly, rounding the bed to wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his shoulder so he can’t see the little worried look that furrows over your brow.

“I’m glad you’re home too.”

****

“Aaron?” you say as you’re pulled from a blissfully dreamless sleep to Aaron twitching beside you.

Well, twitching, he’s more like actually spasming.

“Aaron,” you repeat, a little louder, hesitantly wishing to wake him but you’ve both had experiences waking the other from nightmares that has ended with ice packs, so there’s less shaking awake and more trying to rise them gently.

“Aaron,” you repeat, touching his arm softly. “Babe. Honey.”

He wakes with a strangled sob, Haley’s name mangled somewhere in it. He pulls his legs to his chest, breathing heavily as he tries to calm himself down. You rub circles over his back, murmuring softly to him until he stops rocking.

“I’ve got you,” you murmur, taking note of how Aaron holds his hands out in front of himself, staring at them like they’ve offended him somehow. 

“He was Haley,” Aaron gasps at last, head falling to his knees. “I couldn’t stop I just kept hitting her, she was screaming at me to stop--”

He muffles his sobs into his knees, holding his hands as far away from him as possible.

“Aaron--”

“No, no,” he says, squirming away from ou and then his whole body slumps like he's given up. “I’m a monster.”

“Aaron you are not, listen to me.” You crawl until you’re sitting in front of him, taking his hands in yours even when he tries to pull them away. “These hands do not make you a monster.” You trace a finger over the scar on his middle finger’s knuckle, one he’d made when he was bashing Foyet’s head in. 

“Don’t,” he breathes, trying to pull it away.

“You might see a monster when you look at them," you tell him, shaking his hands. "When you see these hands you may see nothing but the distruction they brought to that Bastard, but I see hands that protected Jack when no one else could. Who used everything in him to make sure what happened to Haley wouldn’t happen to anyone else ever again.”

Aaron sighs, shaking his head. “They still killed someone.”

“I also see hands who took in me and my daughter,” you say softly. “I see hands that hold those kids out there whenever they have a nightmare, that wipe away tears without a moment’s hesitation. I see hands that stop writing reports to give Jack and Saskia one-hundred-and-ten percent. Hands that dug through two feet of soil to get to me, that did CPR until the paramedics got there even when the team was telling him to stop. I don’t see a monster owning those hands.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“I do, Aaron, I really do mean it. These hands keep people safe. They do not make you a monster, they protect the people who need them.”

“I killed him.”

“And thank fucking god for that because he wouldn’t have stopped, Aaron.”

“I know.”

“Good,” you murmur, kissing his knuckles. “I love you.”

“I know,” he says smugly, but it’s still weak.

“Do you want anything?”

“Glass of water?” he asks quietly. 

“I’ll be right back,” you smile, kissing his cheek.

You grab Aaron’s dressing gown on the way out, suddenly remembering that Garcia and Spence are asleep on the sofa and there’s no way they need to see you walking around in booty shorts and an oversized shirt. You’re prepared to tiptoe around in the dark, navigating your way through the kitchen via moonlight and street lights but, instead, you’re surprised to find that the lounge room lamp is on.

The sofas have been pushed back slightly, Penelope and Spence are playing cards on the coffee table, Saskia curled between the two of them under a pile of blankets.

“What’re you two doing up?” you whisper, fighting the urge to kiss both of their heads.

“We’re the cool cousins,” Penelope says proudly. “Miss Saskia couldn’t stay awake, but she tried.”

“Miss Saskia was in bed,” you say, smiling softly at the Saskia shaped lump under the blankets. “It’s okay, thank you for entertaining her.”

You grab a glass out of the cupboard, fill it up, and pass them again.

“Everything okay?” Spence says, frowning.

“Everything’s fine,” you respond.

And maybe you smile when Penelope closes with ‘and that right there is a lie’. 

Aaron’s hunched over on the edge of the bed, hands locked behind his head as he desperately tries to calm him breathing. You crawl over the bed, sitting next to him with your legs folded beneath you.

“Water,” you say softly.

“Thanks.” He gulps it down before you can remind him to drink it slowly and slams it onto the bedside table. “You really mean what you said about my hands?”

“Oh, that and more, I left out the part where those hands can give me the best orgasms of my life,. Didn’t think it was a good time to mention it,” you tease, kissing his shoulder. “Or that, sometimes, when I’m feeling overwhelmed I think about how softly those hands would hold our future baby, when we have one. But don’t tell Aaron I told you that.”

“Consider me not told,” Aaron chuckles. “You really think about that?”

“I do,” you confess. “It’s nice, just thinking about it. I know that we have no idea if I can even have kids anymore, but it’s still nice to think about.”

He puts an arm around your shoulder, kissing your temple. “It would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“They’re always so tiny and I just imagine that you have that look on your face that you get when Jack and Saskia do the tiniest thing and you’re suddenly proud of them. But like, you’re proud of that baby for just existing.”

“I’m always proud of children for existing,” Aaron says. “They’re so… vulnerable and they still manage to see the good in this horrible world.”

“The world isn’t horrible, but there’s horrible people, and we spend our lives putting them away.”

“We?”

You nod softly. “Yeah, I’m going to go spend half a day at work tomorrow, see if it pans out. I might not even get in the building, but I miss my team.”

“I bet that feels nice to say.”

“Yeah. Justin and Alannah called me today, and Toast threatened to hack my computer when I didn’t open the virtual card he sent to my email.”

“Shakespeare?” 

“Probably orchestrated the whole thing.” You kiss his shoulder again, tracing your nails over his back. “You’re soaked,” you say quietly. “Do you want to go grab a shower, I’ll find you a new set of pj’s.”

“Yeah.”

So he goes to shower and you dig around in the drawers to find something comfortable for Aaron to wear, stripping your own pj’s as you join Aaron in the steam filled bathroom, pressing yourself up against his back and snaking your arms around his stomach. 

“We’re going to be okay,” Aaron says as he hands you the body wash. It’s more for his benefit than yours.

“I know,” you respond as you squeeze a sizable amount of gel on your hands and massage it over his back, following the dips and creases. He relaxes, shoulders falling back, rolling into your hands. 

“I love you,” he says, turning to pull you into a hug. “More than I can ever put into words.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“If it’s that you love me more, I already know.”

“That, and if you were a monster you’d be The Cookie Monster.”

Aaron laughs properly--genuinely properly, his head falls back and then he chokes on the shower water and you’re both desperately trying to stop laughing between snorts.

Yeah, the two of you are going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~i was supposed to be seeing my friends today for the first time since november 2019 (they live in the city and i do not) but covid messed us over (duh, of course, what's new) so this whole chapter was a little sombre. Also why the last couple of chapters were so short my brain ust refused to compute words~~  
> ~~but here we are, working through some stuff~~


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> our favourite crime fighters are back at work.  
> ~this plot is just making up for some CM tropes that piss me off~

It’s cases like these that make you miss the BAU.

Make you wish Strauss had never said it would be a good idea to join Shakespeare’s team. 

Wish you’d taken that offer of retirement.

Wish you still had the jet.

Wish you weren’t driving ten hours to a case.

But no, the four of you are crammed into a (not even FBI sanctioned) car with aircon that doesn’t work properly to check out some claims made by a batty old woman. Well, batty is an understatement.

“Our Dottie is a frequent flyer,” Justin says as he slumps in his chair and puts his feet up on the back of the driver’s seat.

“Put your feet down,” you say like he’s your son and he pokes his tongue out at you. “What kind of frequent flyer? And I mean it about the feet.”

“Yeah,” Shakespeare says looking at him in the rear-view mirror. “Listen to your cool Aunt, she was stabbed you have to do what she says for 12 months.”

“We should just do what our boss says,” Alannah mutters. “Do we have reception out here? My texts aren’t sending.”

“Does it look like we have reception?” Billy snaps, pointing at the miles and miles of crops around you and the fact that the asphalt just abruptly ended and now you are bouncing along a dirt road that probably only still exists because too many people drive it at high speeds.

“No,” Alannah says, crossing her arms.

“Everything okay?” you ask, leaning awkwardly to look back at her. 

“No, I forgot to get my sister’s meds and her prescriptions are in my drawer.”

“I can call Aaron when we get to the police station, he could pick them up?” you offer.

She offers you a small, wet smile and nods. “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“What was getting stabbed like?” Justin asks, pulling his feet down and leans like he’s actually about to listen to you.

“Justin!” Alannah hisses. “You can’t just ask that!”

“She can show you, if you’d like,” Billy says. “I think I’ve got a knife in my bag.”

You punch Billy’s arm and glare at him but you note that Alannah’s looking smug while Justin finally sits back in his chair and watches the crops go passed.

The town is small, far smaller than you had expected. There’s Roseville, about forty miles north, and then there’s Greshwin. Greshwin’s got a laundromat, Mexican take out, two bars (although you note that the second bar—Circe—is more occupied than Lucky Bear’s), and a police station that looks like it’s falling apart. 

It is. Falling apart, that is, Justin goes to open the door and the door handle falls off entirely. Alannah knocks on the window and it just kind of falls in. It doesn’t even shatter it just tilts, full sheet of glass, and nestles itself against the blinds.

“Who’re you lot looking for?” says a guy, presumably the owner of Lucky Bear’s, as he comes out the door and flings a tea towel over his shoulder.

“FBI,” you say, flashing your badge. “Just here to check up on Dottie, thought we’d drop into local law enforcement.”

“You’re not going to find anyone there,” he says. “Jonathon’s out dealing with some disagreements.” The way his lip quirks tells you it’s probably more than a ‘disagreement’.

“Ma’am,” Alannah says like she’s guilty about interrupting you, showing that her phone still has no reception. You squeeze her shoulder, then cross the road.

“SSA Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduce, extending your hand. 

He looks you up and down, then shakes your hand with his strong, golden weathered hands. “Solomon. Are you here about the killings?”

You glance across the road to where Shakespeare’s wrestling with the door, trying to pull it off its hinges or something.

“We’re here to follow up some claims made by Dottie.”

“Hope she’s making claims about those killings.”

“Where are they?”

“The res,” he says, pointing down the road.

“We don’t have jurisdiction unless we’re specifically asked in.”

“Would you work it if you were asked?”

“Of course.” You shuffle on your feet, glancing back at your team, and sigh. “Listen, do you think I could borrow your phone?”

“Sure,” he steps aside, opening the door for you. “You’re not going to get a hold of Jonathon, though.”

“That’s alright, one of my agents just needs to make sure her family are looked after.”

“I’ll have to ask you to leave your gun in the back, but I can offer you the phone and a meal. Nothing too fancy, just nachos or sandwiches.”

“I’d appreciate that,” you smile. “I’m sure my team would too.”

You all filter into the bar, putting your guns in a basket out the back. Solomon seats you closest to the back room’s door anyway, and it’s a small enough town it’s not like anything weird is going to happen. Okay, maybe don’t jinx yourself.

You have to wrap the phone chord around your hand three times and hold it above your shoulder to get the phone to work, but that’s fine. You listen to one, two, three, rings before:

“Hotchner.”

“It’s your wife,” you respond. Billy smirks at you. You listen as Aaron pulls his mobile away from his ear then puts it back.

“This isn’t your number.”

“No reception,” you say. “Listen, Alannah didn’t get her sister’s meds and the prescription is in her desk drawer, do you think you could grab them and drop them off on the way home?”

“I can do all that now,” he says. “Give me a second and I’ll run down.” 

You listen as he weaves his way through the bullpen, jogs himself down the stairs, and comes out to your bullpen. 

“Which one’s Alannah’s desk?”

“The one with the TARDIS, owl and octopus on it.”

Alannah hops nervously from foot to foot. You give her a thumbs up and she relaxes significantly. 

“Do you have anything without meat?” Alannah asks Solomon. “Like, uh, strawberry jelly or something?” 

“Toast or sandwich, Darling?”

“Oo! Toast please!” Her face lights up, smiling even further when Solomon pulls out five different jellies and spreads them out over the bar.

“Any of these.”

“Charlotte Reinhold?” Aaron asks and you hum yes. “Sheesh, she’s got more meds than us combined, and Jack. Poor thing. I’ll pick them up, text me the address you want me to drop them off to.”

“I can’t text you, Aaron, no reception. Alannah,” you call, holding out the phone to her.

“Raspberry please,” she says, then she’s telling Aaron her address and the code to her house alarm if her siblings aren’t home, and all the code words for strangers visiting the house if they are home. Then she hands you back the phone.

“Thanks Aaron,” you say, turning your back to your team like it’ll give you privacy.

“Who’s Touchwood?” Aaron says.

“Us,” you groan. “It’s a joke.”

“You’ve got a very talented agent; these drawings are incredible.”

“Get out of her drawer.”

“Yeah, yeah. Listen, we’ve got a case so Sas and Jack are at your dad’s until tomorrow afternoon and then they’re going to Jess’s, if you come back before me just text her.”

“Okay, stay safe.”

“You too. Love you, I’ll drop these off before I leave.”

“Love you too.” You hang up the phone, untangling your hand and massaging the indentations out of your hand. “Thank you, Solomon.”

“Yeah, anytime.” He grabs a couple of beer glasses out from under his bar and fills them with water for you. “So where are you guys staying?”

“Bureau wants to put us up in Roseville,” Billy says.

Solomon shakes his head. “If that rain rolls in you’ll never get back. I’ve got ten rooms out the back, in the motel.” He points out the back. “Floor bolted safes, clean, working phones too that make external calls, free of charge. I’d be happy to put you all up.”

You look to Billy who nods.

“That would be great, thank you Solomon,” you smile.

He smiles, grabs four keys off his key display behind the bar and hands them to the four of you. 

“So do you know Dottie?” Shakespeare asks through a mouthful of pulled chicken sandwich. 

“Where are you from?”

“The fucking Queen’s house,” Shakespeare says dryly. Solomon huffs, but he grins all the same. 

“We all know Dottie,” he says. “She’s a town staple. Some folks in town don’t like her, say she brings us more trouble than anything else.”

“She’s been emailing the team since I joined,” Billy says. “Recently she started calling, but I think there’s some truth in the visions she sees. About the aliens and the snakes and—”

“Possession?” Solomon finishes.

“Yeah. I think she might be trying to rationalise the things she sees with things she can understand.”

“And all four of you are willing to listen to her?” Solomon asks. “I mean, really listen. Because she scripts what she’ll say on the telephone, in real life she rambles for hours before you get anything coherent.”

“We understand,” Justin says.

“She managed to get the FBI all the way out here because she’s been emailing for what, a decade?”

“Eight years and forty-two days,” Shakespeare says. “Think I know her better than I know my own kids.”

“Yeah, plus, last night me and Toast—that’s our computer guy—we were messing around putting up reported crimes with Dottie’s emails and most of it sounds right. Like, three years ago she rang about an alien of abduction of a bunch of pre-teen kids but we didn’t have nothing but two years ago they found the kids and it all matched up,” Justin says without taking a breath.

“This is incredible,” Alannah says. “This toast is amazing.” She cuts a corner off for you and hands it to you. “So good.”

“You guys all came here to follow up a hunch?”

“Anything for our Dottie,” Shakespeare says.

“Well, I can write down her routine. She’ll be out in her garden at four, looking after her plants and her ‘dog’.”

“Is it not her dog?” you ask.

“It’s all the strays in town, she looks after them.”

“And they have never hurt her?”

“Nope.”

He scribbles some stuff down on a legal pad, rips the page out and hands it to you. 

“What’re these names?” you ask, twisting it to him once more.

“The dogs,” Billy offers.

Solomon shakes his head. “Dottie’s alters.” He wipes a cloth over his bar. “She’s not dangerous, don’t you dare go getting that into your heads, she’s misunderstood and lonely.”

“Understood,” you nod and the team echo their agreement. 

“Shall we go see her then?” Billy asks, brushing his hands off. “Thanks for the feed.” And he slams twenty bucks down on the bar, Alannah and Justin doing the same, only lightly.

“This is too much,” Solomon says.

“It’s all in the bureau budget,” you smile. “Take it, redisperse it.”

“Thank-you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~all the 'unsub has DID they secret killers' plots piss me off so here we have, Dottie. I'm excited for this smol plot.~


	23. Chapter 23

“Miss Dottie?” Shakespeare asks as you get to the house surrounded by a beautiful garden in the midst of dry, dry, dirt. She looks up from where she’s brushing down a dog that’s covered in flaking dead skin.

“That’s me, young man,” she smiles. “Give me a moment, Jaspy needs me.”

“Jaspy?” Justin asks quietly, but Dottie’s already looking up at the four of you.

“This dog,” she says.

When she’s done, she stands, throwing her long, thick, black and silver hair over her shoulders. She looks over the four of you, puts away her gardening tools then comes to her gate.

“What can I do for you youngsters?”

“Ma’am, I’m SSA Benjamin Shakespeare.” Billy pulls out his ID and hands it to her. 

She studies it, squinting, puts it close to her face so her nose is touching it then nods.

“Your email said you were coming today, I didn’t believe it was true. No one ever comes,” she says as she hands back the ID. 

It’s Alannah who breaks the conversation between Billy and Dottie.

“Ma’am, what happened to your hand?” Alannah nudges Billy out the way and frowns. “May I touch it?”

Dottie nods, undoes the latch on her gate and beckons you all in. You glance over Alannah’s shoulder at the cut on Dottie’s hand. It looks bad, far too deep to be superficial, and while it’s not bleeding it looks like it had for a while. 

“Do you have a first aid kit in your home?” Alannah asks gently as she runs her thumbs along either side of the cut.

“No, should I?” Dottie says, bending so she can look at Alannah’s face. 

“I can get it from the car,” Justin offers, and when Alannah nods he heads back up the street,

“May I treat this, Ma’am?” Alannah asks.

Dottie’s cheeks heat and she has a rather polite and pleased smile spread over her face. 

“She’s so polite,” Dottie giggles. “Yes, you may, young lady.”

“I’m Alannah Reinhold,” Alannah says, holding her hand to her chest as Dottie guides her inside.

“Oh, I’m Dorothy.”

“May I call you Dottie?” Alannah asks, and honestly you’re proud of her for being so polite. “My siblings call me Lola.”

You raise an eyebrow at Billy, not aware of the nickname previously. Dottie looks all too excited to share information with Alannah, sitting in one of her plastic covered sofa chairs and explaining that she doesn’t remember how she got the cut but it could have been while she was gardening.

“Have you had a doctor look at this?” Alannah asks as Justin comes in, handing her the first aid kit.

“The doctor won’t see me,” Dottie says, shaking her head sadly.

“Dottie, this is a really bad cut. You could get it infected,” she doesn’t say it like she’s chastising her, rather like a concerned child.

“He says I’m not worth his time,” Dottie continues and Billy scrunches up his face like he’s trying not to cry. 

“You are worth his time,” Alannah says sternly. “This is going to sting a little, but I need to clean it.”

“I understand,” Dottie nods.

“Miss Dottie, would you like a cup of tea?” Billy asks as Justin starts canvassing the room. There’s a rocking chair by the window that you find particularly interesting, a book of notes spread out on the windowsill. 

“That would be lovely,” she smiles. 

“Who’s this?” Justin asks, taking a framed photograph of a three-year-old boy off her display shelf. “Your grandson?”

“My son,” Dottie says quietly. “He died.”

You note that she doesn’t say passed away. 

“I’m sorry, that must be really hard,” Alannah says. “I’m going to bandage this up now, you’re going to have to keep it dry and try not to use it for a week. You’ll need to change the dressing everyday.”

“Oh, honey, that’s very kind but I live alone, I must use my hand.”

Alannah looks much more concerned than you expected from her.

“Do you like Solomon’s food at, uh, Lucky Bear’s?” 

“Alannah,” you say softly but she’s already offering to pay for a fortnight of food at Lucky Bear’s. Totally out of line by bureau rules, but you can’t argue with her because Dottie really does need to be somewhere else.

“Sugar?” Shakespeare asks as he pops his head in the room.

“No thank you,” Dottie smiles.

“Cream?”

“I haven’t got any, I can’t get it here.”

Your heart breaks a little. More than a little. Dottie doesn’t deserve to live like this. She doesn’t deserve to be this lonely. Billy places her tea on a crochet coaster and joins you looking at the book. He scans his fingers down the mismatched hand writing, tapping at a couple of names and tugging your sleeve for your attention.

William Henderson: 2348, return 0238  
Edmund Green: 2348, return 0101  
Tommy Bohne: 2359, return unknown. ~~edit: seen leaving Circe’s today.

“Miss Dottie, who sits here?” Billy asks and you frown. But she answers before you can question him.

“Iris,” Dottie says. “She likes to watch, make sure everyone gets home.” 

“Is Iris who reported the kids who got abducted by aliens?” Justin asks. 

“Yes!” she says excitedly.

“May I sit here and look through Iris’s book? I think she may have seen something that would be helpful.”

“Of course, dear, uh there’s a notepad just beside you, just write down what you touched, Iris can get very upset if people have touched her things.”

“Sure,” Justin nods, taking a seat and writing down his name and badge number then thanking Iris for letting him look. 

“H-how did your son die?” you ask. “If you don’t mind, of course.”

Dottie frowns, face falling to her lap. She seems to be distant, like she’s not quite with you, and you’re suddenly aware that you’ve probably crossed a line that you didn’t realise was there.

“You don’t have to answer, of course,” you add quickly. 

“You lost someone,” Dottie says, but her voice has changed ever so little that it makes you raise an eyebrow. Justin, however, turns without a moment’s hesitation.

“Hi! I’m Justin, I hope it’s okay I’m sitting here,” he says, standing slightly.

Dottie cocks her head and gives a curt nod. “Did you sign the book?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

She nods again and Justin turns back to scanning through the book.

“SSA Y/N Y/L/N,” you say, following Justin’s lead. “We’re with the FBI.”

“It’s about time you all showed up.” There’s a dark cloud that forms over her eyebrow as she forces herself to her feet, scanning the room. “Benjamin Shakespeare,” she says as her eyes land on Billy. He nods. “Iris,” she responds, holding out her injured hand to shake.

They hold each other’s gaze like they’ve known each other for years.

“This makes you the one that died,” Dottie/Iris says, turning to you curiously. “His new boss.”

“Y-yes,” you say hesitantly. “But I’m, uh, I’m not dead.”

“Is that why you want to know about my Matthias?”

“No, I’m sorry, I was just curious.”

“You lost someone recently,” she says, walking over to you and taking your hands in hers. She seems frustrated by the bandage but she brushes it off. “I am sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you respond, knowing you could have said something like ‘thank you’ but it just didn’t come out of your mouth.

“She was close to you,” she says simply, squeezing your hands and there’s a kindness that washes over her face. 

Good guess, is all you think. You involuntarily nod. 

She cups your face, squeezing your cheek lightly but affectionately. Your eyes spike with tears but you’re quick to blink them away, glancing out the window. The afternoon light tints the window a strange sort of green colour, that you barely notice except for when people walk past. 

“Aliens?” you ask, pointing to the window.

Iris shakes her head. “Those are Ricky and Elliot.” 

“Would you like me to write them down?” Justin says. “Name and time, right?”

But Iris drops her hand and comes up behind him, writing down the names and pocketing her pen. She looks like she might tell him off, but then her eyebrows furrow in an… appreciative kind of look.

“You used your own pen for my book,” she says and you think it might be the most kindness she’s been shown in years.

“Miss Dottie said you didn’t like it when people touched your things,” Justin says simply like he’s lived with this his whole life. “I hope it’s okay that I used my own pen but I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Thank you,” she says. “That is very kind.”

Alannah asks Iris if she knows how her hand got injured, and they spend a good while discussing that Iris doesn’t know how she got it either. 

“Aliens!” she exclaims suddenly, pointing out the window. There’s a group of teenagers wandering down the street, drinking out of brown paper bags. 

“Interlopers,” Justin says like it’s all made sense.

Iris hums as her cuckoo clock chimes, goes to her record player and puts the needle down on her record. 

Straight onto Songbird by Fleetwood Mac.

“Excuse me,” you say softly, Shakespeare squeezing your shoulder as you go outside. 

You watch as the sun inches it’s way down the sky, eating it’s way at the shadow that’s kept you cool until you’re sure you’ll be sunburnt by the time you leave. You pull up the collar on your jacket and pull it tighter around you in an attempt to protect your softer skin from the sun.

A strong snout nudges your arm, and you turn to a well groomed cattledog who pants excitedly at you. 

“Hello,” you say softly like it’ll respond to you and hold your hand out for it to sniff. “And who are you when you’re home?”

“Starry!” says the young voice of a boy no more than six. “Because me and Miss Dottie found him on a Starry night. He lives with me.”

“I’m Y/N,” you smile.

“I’m Moses,” he says as he opens the lid on a box and fills a bowl of dog food, puts it down and whistles to Starry who bounds to the bowl and starts hungrily eating it up. 

“Are you the visitors Solomon has?” Moses asks. He sits across from you, crossing his legs. You note that he’s sat far enough away from you that he can easily get up and run away before you’re on your feet.

“I am. I’m from the FBI, I'm here with my team who are talking to Miss Dottie.”

“What does FBI mean?”

“Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

Moses frowns and shrugs. “I don’t know what that means. Do you hunt bad guys?”

“I do.”

“Cool!” he scrunches up his face, his sweet, sweet innocent face, then says: “do you find missing people too?”

“Who’s missing?” you ask gently.

“My sister, four days now. Mom’s worried.”

“Are you worried?”

He shakes his head. “She said she was going to be away and might not be back until Sunday after this one and it’s only Tuesday.”

“Sunday after this one? She should be back this weekend or next weekend?”

“Um this weekend because this weekend is when we have lunch at Church and she said she’ll be back for it.”

“Has your Mom told any adults?”

“No the sheriff doesn’t care if we go missing.” Moses clasps his hands together. “That’s why Miss Dottie and Iris write things down.”

You nod slowly, Shakespeare joining you outside.

“Hey Bud,” Shakespeare says to Moses. “Sparkles,” he says to you. 

“This is Moses, Moses this my friend Billy Shakespeare.”

“Like the guy who writes plays? My sister loves those.”

“Just like him. Have you got a favourite?”

“My sister reads me The Tempest.”

“What’s your sister’s name?” you ask, leaning forward.

“Nathalia.”

“Moses’s sister, Nathalia, is missing,” you relay to Billy. “And according to Moses here, the Sheriff doesn’t care who goes missing.” Moses nods enthusiastically in agreement.

“I am sorry to hear that,” Billy says. “We shall see what we can do about making him care.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Billy: we shall see what we can do about making him care  
> Mom: oh great here we go


	24. Chapter 24

“Which one of you is the fucking sheriff?” Billy says as he kicks the door to the police station open. He’s got a handful of girls who have gone missing written on a legal pad—and by handful, you mean Solomon had written every girl under 25 who’s gone missing since 1972 that the sheriff never followed up on.

Two officers look up, the older blonde one seems to scowl at the two of you, her mascara pooled under her eyes, and the younger—short and pudgy—shakes his head. 

“Not me,” he says.

“I can see that,” Billy says. “In here?”

“I wouldn—” the woman says but Billy’s already opening the door to the room marked ‘Sheriff’. 

You hang back as Billy rips into him, waving meekly to the two of them.

“Hey,” you smile.

“Hey,” the youngest one says back. “Who’re you guys?”

“FBI,” you say, flipping your ID.

“Cool,” he says with a smile spreading so big it might split his face. You listen as Billy goes on and on and on and—

“I’m Jimmy,” the youngest says. “Is this about the missing girls?”

“Yup,” you say.

The woman curls her finger at you, beckoning you over with a sort of urgency. She doesn’t say anything, just scribbles

‘he told us not to work them’ onto a sticky note pad, makes sure you’ve read it, and tears it from the pad, shoving it in her mouth. What is this, high school? Then she hands you a thick book full of missing names, updated with if they were found. 

The majority of them were found dead. 

Of course they were.

“May I keep this?” you ask. “I’ll return it before we leave.”

“Sure,” she says softly, looking with concern to the Sheriff’s office. “Just don’t tell him it’s ours.”

“Got it,” you smile, shoving it into the back of your pants.

“We’re leaving,” Shakespeare says as he stalks out, barely noticing you as he leaves. You smile and nod to the officers before following him down into the street. 

He doesn’t say anything to you. 

“What was all that about?” you say as you come out onto the street.

“We’re working the case,” he says. “The best we can.”

****

Solomon did the best he could do when it came to ‘room service’, but honestly he was overjoyed when you’d said that a sandwich would be fine. After all, it’s getting late and you still have yet to call Saskia and Jack.

So you’re sitting cross legged on your bed, feet tucked beneath you, sandwich in one hand, phone cradled against your shoulder.

“Speaking,” answers your Dad.

“Congratulations,” you respond dryly. “It’s me, is Saskia there?”

“Mhmm,” and then “SASKIA!!!!!” Pause, hurried footsteps. “It’s your mom.” Thanks Dad.

“Mommy!”

“Hey Sassy baby.”

“I texted you but Grandad said maybe you’re too busy.”

“I don’t have reception, sorry Sas.” 

“That’s okay.” She shuffles her feet. “You have to talk to Jackie after me, he’s worried.”

“Sure. How was school?” 

“Boring,” she sighs. “They make us work all the time and I’m ahead of everyone anyway. And then people ask where I was and if I tell them the truth the teachers tell me off for lying.”

“I talked to your teacher but I can talk to him again when I’m back, if you’d like.”

“Yes please.” You listen as she scratches at her nails. “So when’re you going to be home?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“… Okay.”

“You’re at Aunty Jess’s tomorrow,” you say softly.

“Yeah I know. And then we’re home because Grandad and Aunty Jess are tag teaming who’s staying with us.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“Sure. Can I talk to you again after I talk to Jack?”

“Of course.”

You listen to Saskia fussing around then the phone is handed to Jack.

“Hi Ammi,” he says. He has this nervous way of talking on the phone now, and you can’t say that you blame him.

“Hi Jack,” you say softly. “Are you ready for bed?”

“I got my pj’s on but Gramps said we can watch a movie.”

“Lucky!”

“Yeah!”

Billy knocks lightly on your door as he pushes it open and joins you, grabbing the notebook from your bedside table. He looks like he might sit with you but then he takes the armchair in the corner.

“What movie are you going to watch?”

“Enchanted! It has a princess and New York!” 

So it’s obviously Saskia’s choice. She religiously watches any movie with New York in it at the moment, and the only thing you can think about when you watch New York is how close Aaron came to dying and the fact that you never told Haley. That Aaron never told Haley. It was all just ‘comes with the territory’.

“That’s very exciting, you’ll have to tell me how it is,” you say like you haven’t watched it.

“Okay Ammi.”

“How are you?”

“I’m okay, how are you?”

Very polite. He definitely learnt that answer from Aaron, if he knows it or not.

“I’m good, Jack.”

“Did you have a good dinner because Gramps made us yummy mashed potatoes with the white and orange potatoes and then he made us beans and he made his steak in this thing with spaghetti.”

“That sounds very yummy. I’m have a… lettuce sandwich.”

“Yuck.”

“Yuck,” you confirm.

“Gramps says I have to go otherwise we won’t have time to watch a movie. Kisses,” he says and he blows a mass of noisy kisses down the phone. 

“Kisses,” you return, showering him in the same kisses. “And Jackie?”

“Yes Ammi?”

“Daddy and I are okay,” you assure him. “We’re just working, I’m sorry we both got a case at the same time.”

“Oh, okay!” somehow his temperament seems to lift substantially. “I love you!”

“Love you too, Jack.”

There’s a wild handling of the phone between Saskia and Jack then you’re greeted with your daughter once more.

“Thanks Mom,” Saskia says.

“That’s okay, Sassy. How are you doing?” 

“I’m okay, I just miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“That makes me feel better,” Saskia mumbles and you roll your eyes. “Okay I have to go. Grandad wants to know if we can call you back on this number?”

“Sure,” you smile, nodding like she can see it. You give her the number and listen to her repeat it back to you as she scribbles it down.

“Love you,” and she blows enough kisses for you to know Jack’s watching her. 

“Love you too,” you respond, blowing kisses back to her until she says

“Ugh, gross,” Saskia says then she says goodbye and you wait for her to hang up before you hang your own phone up. 

“You’re not going to ring your husband?” Billy says without looking up, he’s making notes in his pocket book every now and then.

“Not with you in the room,” you say back. He snorts.

“Fair.”

“Are we still welcome in this town after your little display?”

“I didn’t see you stopping me.”

You tap your foot impatiently and he shrugs.

“We’re probably more welcome than we were three hours ago,” he says. “I was in the bar with Alannah and Justin, the place is buzzing. They’re all reporting their missing siblings, cousins, aunts. Alannah’s got her hands busy helping out a bunch of people with injuries that the Doc won’t see. Justin’s doing his best to help her.”

“Is she still licenced?” 

“Yeah, she renewed it while you were in WITSEC.”

“Huh.” You take a bite of your sandwich then discard it. You’ve probably got biscuits in your go bag. “Is there something going on between Alannah and Justin?”

“Nope. Wish there was, it would make the office so much more interesting.”

“Was Justin with Dottie a new thing? Or is there something I don’t know about him?”

“New to me.” He sighs as he stands, throwing the book to your mattress. “I don’t know why Justin and Toast wanted us out here, but it wasn’t for this.”

“You told me you knew.”

“I lied to you, Boss.” He scratches at his beard and nods. “I hope you’re ready for a long couple of days ahead.”

“Yeah. You too.”

****

It’s passed midnight and Alannah and Justin aren’t back yet. So you throw on a pair of shoes, pull on one of Aaron’s jumpers, and go out to Solomon’s bar. Alannah’s cleaning up sterile wrappers and Justin’s wiping down tables.

“Hope you two are going to get some sleep,” you say and Justin throws you a damp cloth.

“You too, Ma’am,” Alannah says as she scoops her arms over her wrappers and into the bin that she’s pushed under the table. “This isn’t okay,” she says simply.

“Hmm?” you say, wiping down a table that Justin points to. 

“The Doc won’t see a bunch of these ladies because they’ve all moved off the reservation, he says they can still go there for their injuries,” Alannah says and she throws her paper into her bin violently.

“He charges them extra, too,” Justin adds. “Solomon let me use his computer, it’s still connected to dial up so I couldn’t get Toast on video but I did manage to get an email to him to see if this guys licence can be revoked.”

“Good job,” you say to both of them. “I know this is hard.”

Alannah and Justin both nod. Alannah yawns and tries to hide it behind her hand.

“Do you mind if I go get some sleep, Ma’am?” Alannah asks.

“Go for it,” you smile.

You watch her leave and help Justin put the chairs up. 

“Hey, Justin?” you ask. “How did you know with Dottie? You were very good.”

“Yeah,” he says dismissively. “Can this stay between us? I don’t know what Billy would do with it.”

“Sure,” you respond, nodding.

“My mom, she had DID. I don’t want a pity party, but it was hard growing up with her. Miss Dottie seems to be all her good parts, but that’s because I’m an adult now and don’t have to worry about her switching while she’s making my dinner.” He looks at you with wide eyes. “I’m serious about this staying with us.”

“Cross my heart it doesn’t leave this room.”

“You worked with the BAU, right?”

“…yes?”

“Did… I read their reports and that whole violent alters thing is bullshit. I lived with my mom for twenty-four years before she died and not once did she get violent with me or with anyone else.”

“Justin—”

“No, it sucks. If they were to turn up now they’d probably arrest Dottie for those disappearances and the killings Solomon was talking about.”

“Justin,” you say softly, taking his hand in yours and squeeze it. “The BAU only find serial killers. They work with the most extreme of cases, whatever they’ve got is all the way on the level of extreme.”

“But they get all the attention, people worship their cases. It’s all people talk about when they close something, and what, we could figure out this whole disappearance and we’ll all be a footnote in some passing undergrad student’s paper on something that doesn’t even have anything to do with the actual case.”

“I know,” you say softly. “And it sucks shit, but we don’t have to wear that on our shoulders.”

“We totally do.”

“The four of us could wipe the floor with the BAU if we had half the funding they have, but we have to do what we can with what we’ve got.”

“Do you think this’ll be enough? If we close the case.”

“Only if you let it be enough,” you tell him softly and he nods.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

So, logically, the next day was when the BAU’s jet lands.

And Jonathon, that fucking sheriff, looks way too smug about it when he comes into Solomon’s bar to say it.

If only he knew what he’d really called in.

And you have a feeling that’s exactly the kind of ‘shooting himself in the foot’ Billy wanted because all he can do is smile at you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mom & dad get to solve a case together again eeeeeeee.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~'our names are brothers'~

“You’re not set up at the police station?” Aaron asks quietly as you’re all congregated in Solomon’s bar.

The atmosphere is far icier than it had been moments before. Prentiss and Morgan are hovering in the corner, Justin and Spencer are playing a game of chess with a couple of children who are too young to be in school. Shakespeare’s outside, smoking a cigarette, Rossi sharing it with him. 

Alannah’s beside you on a barstool, and she pulls her legs up underneath her on the chair and starts rolling the non-sterile bandages up with surprising efficiency. 

“The Sheriff doesn’t like us,” Alannah says simply, pressing a rolled bandage into a tray and starting on the next one. “The same way the town doesn’t like the FBI team playing buddy-buddy with the Sheriff.”

“They’re not playing buddy-buddy,” you tell her warningly and she shrugs.

“Looks like it when you make your nest with that bastard.”

“Alannah.”

“I’ll take a walk,” she says quietly, unfolding herself. She presses her second rolled bandage into the tray, nestles it safely behind the bar, then stalks off.

“Sorry,” you relay to Aaron, taking his wrist and motioning out the back. He nods, following you out silently.

“You call your team by their first names?” Aaron asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I call my team whatever they want to be called, Alannah doesn’t like being called Reinhold,” you say, pulling the curtain shut behind the bead curtain like it gives you any privacy. “We’re not set up at the police station because we weren’t here about the missing girls.”

“Missing girls?” Aaron says, brow furrowing. “We’re here about the dead congressmen related murders. String of higher up, official men, have been dropping dead every fortnight. Sheriff can’t find who did it. We’ve got three days until the next murder. If our job has changed, we don’t know about it. We haven’t had reception to check in with Garcia. JJ’s gone to Roseville to see if there’s anything new.”

“The sheriff’s two officers are working the missing girls off the clock, he won’t let them work it,” you say, sitting on one of the tables. “No one’s mentioned any other dead bodies piling up.”

“Do you want my files?” he offers.

“Do you want mine?” you offer back.

You watch Aaron think about it, then nod. “There’s a strong possibility we’re working against each other here.”

“You think?”

He pulls some butchers paper off a shelf and draws a T chart, writing the two separate killings on each side. You both fill them out with what you know, men vs women, killings, motives, locations. And you’ve definitely got two different unsubs.

“So, what, one’s killing and one’s…”

“Avenging,” Aaron finishes. “Got any suspects?”

“For which one?”

“Killing.”

“You’re finding the avenger.”

He shrugs, looking down at the paper. “Find one we find the other, and I feel a lot more comfortable whoever’s avenging these girls some time to get their story straight.”

“That’s not the Aaron Hotchner I know.”

“I’m not getting paid to catch two unsubs,” he responds dismissively.

“Aaron,” you say quietly, taking his hand and squeezing it. 

Before you can say anything, like asking if he’s okay or telling him not to mess with his morals, the bead curtain to the backroom dingles and the fabric moves away just a tiny little bit.

Enough for Moses to poke his head through.

“Hi,” he says meekly, holding out a Tupperware container in front of him. “Momma and I made you potato cakes. Solomon doesn’t make very good food.”

“He makes excellent toast,” you say quietly, leaning down and beckoning him over. “But that’s very kind, thank you.”

He smiles proudly when you ruffle his hair, taking the Tupperware container and pop the lid, holding it out to him.

“Would you like one?”

“Yes please!” he says happily, wiggling his fingers as he chooses his favourite one. His eyes go as wide as dinner plates as they fall on Aaron. Aaron smiles a little, joining you on the floor.

“Moses, this is Aaron, Aaron this is Moses,” you introduce. “Moses’s sister, Nathalia, is missing.”

“Our names are brothers,” Moses says in complete awe. 

“They are,” you agree softly.

Aaron holds out a hand for Moses to shake and Moses does it enthusiastically. 

“That’s a really nice suit,” Moses says.

“Thanks, I like your t-shirt. Iron man? My son loves Captain America.” Aaron gives him a small smile, then sits on the floor entirely and crosses his legs. “How old is Nathalia?”

“Uhm almost thirteen. It’s her birthday next week!”

You and Aaron share a quick look. Neither of you have to mention that Moses and Nathalia are too close to Jack and Saskia’s ages for comfort. Aaron raises an eyebrow at you. She fits right in the middle of the victims ages. 

“Do you think Nathalia could be in danger?” Aaron asks. He watches Moses carefully, watches the way the little boy looks at Aaron’s hands. Aaron holds his hands palm up and Moses immediately puts his tiny ones in Aaron’s large hands.

“She said she would call me at school but she never did.”

“Is there any reason Nathalia wouldn’t call home?” you ask as Moses traces the lines on Aaron’s palms. 

“We don’t have a phone.”

“He doesn’t have a phone,” Aaron repeats at you like you’ve said something incredulous. 

You poke your tongue out at him.

Aaron returns the gesture. 

“Do you two like each other?” Moses asks.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Aaron whispers and Moses nods eagerly. “That’s my wife.” 

“Why’s that a secret?” But Moses looks ecstatic that he’s been let in on the secret. 

“Well, we’re supposed to have a proper wedding but we got married in Vegas,” you tell him. “We didn’t invite all our friends, or our kids. So we’re keeping it a secret until we can have a proper wedding, with all our friends.”

“So it’s a secret so you don’t hurt anybody’s feelings?” he says, brow furrowing. Oddly pervasive and clear for a kid that age.

“Do you have a secret like that with Nathalia?” you ask. “It’s okay if you tell us, we’re only trying to help her.”

Moses nods. It looks like it pains him. “Dad’s notebook. Nathalia buried it before she left.”

“Do you know what was in it, or is that a secret too?” Aaron asks. “I know our kids have secrets, from us and from each other.”

“I’m not allowed to look because Nathalia says it’s yucky but I have to protect it.”

“Protect it from who?” you ask.

“The guy who killed Dad,” Moses says quietly. Before you can ask who that is, the bead curtains jingle and you’re met with a very distressed

“Moses!” from the mouth of what could only be his mother.

Moses flings his arms around your neck. “I’ll bring you the book later,” he whispers and then he’s launching for his mom.

“Mom these are my new friends, the one’s who are helping look for Nathalia. Y/N and Aaron.”

Aaron raises a hand in a small wave, looking a little sheepish because, that’s not exactly what you’re doing. But in theory, sure.

“Can you go help Solomon with the sandwiches, buddy?” Moses’s mom says and he nods, running out to the bar.

“Thanks for the potato cakes,” you smile. “I’m SSA Y/N Y/L/N, this is SSA Aaron Hotchner. I met Moses yesterday.”

“At Miss Dottie’s, I know,” she says, nodding slowly. “I’m sorry if we’re any trouble to you, I understand neither of you are here to find my daughter.”

“It’s no trouble, my team and I weren’t here for anything substantial.”

“M-Moses said I should give you a picture of Nathalia,” she says, holding out a polaroid to you. “Oh, I-I’m Faith.”

“Thank-you, I understand this is an incredibly stressful and tough time for you,” you say, rubbing her arm. 

Aaron takes the polaroid, tapping it against his fingers.

“This is recent,” Aaron says, holding out the polaroid and pointing to the sore on Moses’s head.

“Nathalia insisted we keep it on the fridge before she disappeared,” Faith says. “I-I-I know you think I’m crazy, that she could have just run away from home, but I know she hasn’t.”

“I know,” you agree. “Could she have taken the bus to Roseville? Or hitch hiked?”

“Roseville? No.” Faith shakes her head. “She’d been spurting off all this stuff that her father was obsessed with, kept talking about how she was going to visit the reservation. She was following some sort of lead that her father was following.”

“Was he a cop?” Aaron asks, handing you the polaroid. 

“No,” Faith says. “Watched a lot of cop shows, though. Talked to a lot of people. He was a lawyer.”

“Did he talk to Nathalia and Moses about it?”

Faith shakes her head. “Oh, this time last year a girl a couple of years above Nathalia went missing. He talked to her about it for a while, they both did a lot of work together about it. The sheriff said she couldn’t have disappeared, he said that it wasn’t possible for her to go missing.”

“Wasn’t possible?” Aaron says, brow furrowing.

Faith looks nervously out behind her, then shrugs.

“My husband says he’s just a bag of racist shit.”

“Sounds like it.” Aaron kisses your cheek and squeezes your wrist. “I’ll go get Prentiss and Morgan.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to go grill that sheriff.”

“Why not take Spence?”

Aaron shrugs. “He’s not exactly scary with his walking stick.”

“Aaron,” you chastise, but he’s shrugging and he’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~this really was just a plot based filler~~  
> Mom and Dad haven't worked together since WITSEC so there might be some ground work they need to clear up before Aaron just decides revenge is chill haha.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~a short and soft one~

Greshwin’s nights are cold. 

Even with the spare blankets Solomon had given you, it’s still miserable. But a part of you has to keep the BAU and Touchwood looking like you’re working different sides of the fence. 

Literally.

Although, it does look suss that you’re sitting on top of a dryer in the laundromat as Emily does her laundry. All the go bags in the world wouldn’t have saved Emily from the particularly angry mother who had grabbed her bag as Em was getting out of the car and shaken it all out into a mud puddle. 

She’s wearing your spare jumper and one of your pyjama pants. The spare ones. She doesn’t get your favourite spares, only because they’re the ones Haley gifted you.

“How are you doing?” Emily asks as she holds her hands out to warm them in the tumble dryer’s warm air. You shuffle over on top of the dryer but she shakes her head.

“I’m alright,” you say because it’s the closest thing to the truth. “How long has Aaron been going off like that?”

Emily smiles, closing her eyes. “God, it’s so good to hear someone call him Aaron,” Emily says softly. “Uh, he hasn’t told you?”

“No,” you return, pulling your legs up underneath you. “Told me what?”

“When did you go into WITSEC?”

“Night before Aaron wanted to go back to work,” you say, cocking your head at her.

“That’s how long he’s been going off,” Emily says quietly. 

“Shit,” you say in both awe and frustration. “How has he not been fired yet?”

“He’s been close to it,” Emily confesses. 

You nod along with her before dropping your gaze to your lap. “I’ll talk to him.”

“He’s not your responsibility,” Emily says quickly. “I mean he is, but he’s not, you don’t have to talk to him.”

“Someone has to,” you say softly with a tiny small. 

“You guys are doing alright, right? We didn’t hear from either of you for months.”

“Two, Emily. Two months,” you correct. “And yeah, we’re doing fine. We had to make sure the kids were okay. Then each other.”

“And you are?”

“I guess.” You tap your hands against the door to the dryer. 

“Are you seeing a therapist?”

“Yeah, all four of us.” You blow your hair out of your face. “Saskia’s rocky at the moment, but Jack’s doing okay.”

“They’re resilient kids, they’ll bounce back.”

“I know.”

“You’ll all bounce back.”

“I still feel like I’m barely holding it together,” you confess. “Work is good, nothing’s different at work, but… you know Aaron just puts a rug over his blood stain on the carpet? I don’t know what he’s going for but we could at least get the carpet redone.”

“I thought he did,” Emily says with a smirk.

“No he bought a tacky rug that looks like it came from the dollar store and put the dining table on top.”

“How romantic.”

“Bleh, romance.” Your phone chimes and you hold out your hand. “Can you pass my bag?” 

Emily nods, handing you your bag and you dig around for your meds. You grab your drink bottle, pop your meds out and swallow them, then toss your bag to the floor. 

“How long are you on them for?” Emily asks cautiously. 

“Forever and ever and ever,” you respond. “Turns out, getting stabbed twice in critical organs and somehow surviving gives you a thousand doctor’s appointments and check-ups and meds that taste gross.”

“At least you’ve got the scars to show for it,” Emily offers.

“And the aches and pains that go with it.”

“Hey,” Aaron says as he pushes the door to the laundromat open. “It’s warm in here.”

“Close the door or you’ll let the all the hot air out,” you tell him and he does a look that can only be an imitation of Jack being told to close the door before he closes it and nods to Emily. “Did you take your super hero pills?” 

“Reluctantly. Did you take yours?” he asks, leaning up against the dryer and resting his head on your shoulder. You nod. “Am I interrupting girls night?”

“You’re interrupting laundry night, have you got any to do?” 

He shakes his head. “Not unless you want to throw Jack’s koala in there, he packed it in my go bag. Said it was for good luck.”

“Did you talk to him? He was tetchy he couldn’t talk to you this morning.”

“I know, I’ve had my earful,” Aaron says with a small smile. Emily looks between the two of you softly and smiles.

“It’s nice to see you both back together,” Emily says. She looks like she’s about to say something more then stops. 

“Em knows about Vegas,” you tell him, tugging his sweater sleeve until he drags his feet closer to you and you wrap your legs around him. You can feel the way his whole body heats with some sort of embarrassment. 

“Surprise?” he says. 

“What did you guys use as rings?” Emily says, clearly impressed with the both of you. 

“These tacky gumball machine rings, I’ve got no idea where they are.”

“Bedside drawer,” Aaron says quietly, leaning back into you and squeezing your hands. “My side.”

“Cutie.”

“What’re you guys going to do with them?”

“No idea,” you confess. “One of those see through display boxes would be cute, though.”

“I know, I’m working on it,” Aaron grumbles. “How did you guys get this so warm?”

“First off, our dashing good looks,” you tell him, pressing a kiss behind his ear. “And then I spent all my coins while putting a single sock in each and every dryer so I could put them all on without ruining the environment.”

“You’re ruining the environment,” Aaron teases. “Either way you’ve fogged this whole place up. It’s the only reason I knew you were both in here.”

The door clunks as it opens, a washing basket pushed in, followed by Dottie. She's struggling to carry the basket with the bandage on her hand, and she's obviously half carried, half kicked it here all the way from her house.

“Miss Dottie?” you ask, unwrapping your legs from Aaron’s waist.

“Oh, hullo,” she says, waving gently. “You’re the one who met Dottie and Iris, yes? I’m Eddie.”

“Hey, yeah, I’m Y/N, this is Hotch and Prentiss.” You jump down from the dryer. “Would you like some help? I’m afraid we’re using all the dryers but they’ll be done in twenty-five minutes.”

“Thank-you,” he says as you pull Dottie’s washing out and put it into one of the machines. “I like how warm you’ve made the place.”

“Hotch says I’m ruining the environment.”

“You are,” Eddie says simply. “Any news on whatever you were here for? I wasn’t really listening when you came over, but I’m sorry if Iris offended you with her music taste. We don’t all like it either.”

“No, no, it’s okay, I wasn’t offended. Just took me by surprise. Would you like to join us?” you offer as you fill the machine with coins and put some powder in. Eddie presses the setting they want and nods.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had company.”

“I’m sorry we won’t be much but grumpy city slickers.”

“That’s okay,” they smile. 

The dryers end twenty-five minutes later. Emily and Aaron are too engrossed arguing about last weeks baseball game with Eddie to care all that much. Emily folds her clothes and discusses philosophy with Eddie while you change the clothes from the washer to the dryer. Aaron offers to fix Dottie’s generator. 

Not even in the morning, he says he’ll do it once the washing is done. You had no idea Aaron still knew how to fix a generator. Which is how Aaron and you end up walking from the laundromat to Dottie’s house with the blankets from Dottie’s couch over your shoulders.

“Miss?” Dottie asks as you put her kettle in the embers of the fire, watching Aaron with the flashlight in his mouth struggling with the generator.

“Yes?” you say, turning to the elder woman. 

“I thought this might help,” she says as she sits on her couch and hands you a photo album. 

You’re not sure how it will help.

Until you open it, and out pours thousands of crime scene photos of the dead girls. Your stomach drops.

“Where did you get this?” you ask, praying to every power that this isn’t another BAU win like Justin fears.

“Doc left it in the house and called the sheriff. Iris said we had to hide it in the roof. She didn’t want to disturb the nice girl who helped with our hand, so she didn’t give it to you.” 

“Have you got a sandwich bag? I can take it for evidence.”

The house buzzes back to life and the lights all flicker on. 

“Done,” Aaron says proudly as he brushes off his hands as he comes inside. 

“Aar,” you say softly, beckoning him over. “Want to get a sandwich bag for me?”

He nods, going to where Dottie’s pointinyg with her bandaged hand. He shakes it out before handing it to you.

“Who’s is it?” he asks, and you know he’s looking at Dottie warily.

“Doc’s,” you say softly.

“We’ll need a little more for an arrest warrant.”

“You’re not going to get an arrest warrant from the Sheriff.” Which is true, half the people here think the Sheriff and Doc are saints and the other half seem to think he’s the literal demon in human form.

You’re in the second camp, of course.

“Jimmy would help you,” Dottie says. “He said so himself, that young boy. He came in here and told me he’d do anything.”

“When?” you ask, frowning slightly.

“This morning.”

“I’ll go with you in the morning,” you say to Aaron. He has this determined look on his face that makes your skin crawl. “Aaron. Morning. You’re not going tonight. You’re having tea and getting a full nights sleep before looking at anything more.”

“She’s got you on a tight leash,” Dottie snorts.

“Yes she does,” Aaron says with a small smile. “May I make you a tea?”

“Yes please, young man,” Dotti says.

‘Thank-you,’ you mouth to Aaron.

He just nods back.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~wrapped this plot up really quick~  
> This was pumped out in 3 hours and I haven't had a change to look over it, so mistakes beware!~

You’re not sure how you got here, with your gun drawn, feverishly pointing between two grown men that see to think that they can take you down with their bare hands.

No, you do know why you’re here.

You’re here because Jimmy drove eight hours to get an arrest warrant, personally, from a judge. You’re here because the sheriff didn’t turn up to work. You’re here because JJ managed to unearth an entire conspiracy of the Sheriff and Doc and other men with too much power and money to their name killing off underage girls who spoke out against the abuse they suffered at their hands. You’re here because Greshwin’s only Doctor dropped his medical bag and sped off towards the reservation the moment Shakespeare stepped out of Dottie’s home, arms crossed, brow furrowed, photo album in hand. 

You would have left it. Honestly, Solomon seemed content to let the reservation police to do what they do best, especially to men like that. But then Moses had run after his truck, the five-year-old somehow launching himself onto the flatbed screaming that Doc knows where Nathalia is.

You’re here because you couldn’t leave Moses with a murderer.

You’re here because you couldn’t listen to Faith screaming anymore.

You’re here because Aaron took Solomon’s truck and you wouldn’t have been surprised if he left you behind.

An hour-long car chase and you’ve ended up in the most obscure point of the reservation, with only one of you having jurisdiction, the Sheriff pointing a gun at you with Moses in a mean choke hold, the Doc the same with Nathalia.

The team kind of know where you are. Kind of, because you only just managed to rattle off your loose location before Aaron had blundered out of the car. And you’re not sure he was doing it to just arrest them.

At first, it had been the two of you. Honestly, if Aaron had told you to shoot on three you would have. But Nathalia and Moses are young, and they’re scared, and they don’t need to feel what it’s like for someone to die behind them.

Everything had been fine.

Then Doc had pulled out a knife and pressed it to Nathalia’s neck. 

At that exact moment, you had lost Aaron. He totally stopped functioning, he was just staring, gun only still where it is because of all his training. But he’s not there. Not really, Aaron’s whole mind is somewhere else. 

Which leaves just you, holding your gun, trying to pick and choose between Doc and the sheriff.

Between Moses and Nathalia.

“Look at me,” you say as softly yet firmly as you possibly could. Moses swallows, big brown eyes looking at you. They’re so wide. So full of fear. Exactly like Jack. Shit. Don’t think about Jack and Saskia. Not now.

“Nat, you gotta look at her,” Moses says, his voice all squeaky. “She’s trying to help!”

Nathalia’s covered in bruises, head to toe, there’s bruises on her wrists and ankles and the bottoms of her feet are all cut up and you don’t want to think about what she’s lived through. 

“Hi Nathalia,” you say and the Sheriff starts screaming at you. Moses starts crying. Nathalia’s whimpering. Aaron’s still stuck. 

So you set off a warning shot. It’s risky, and dumb, but if the Sheriff and Doc were going to do anything they would have done it by now, and it seems to snap Aaron out of it. 

It all happens quicker than you can blink, Sheriff is shot in the shoulder, he spirals away and only then do you realise how close they are to a cliff. Aaron’s far nimbler on his feet than you expected, launching across the distance and catching Moses by the front of his shirt. He practically throws Moses into your arms and you barely have time to lower your gun before Moses is in your arms.

Then Aaron’s got one hand wrapped around the knife, pulling it from Nathalia’s neck, and Nathalia’s running for you and Moses. You push them both behind you, not before you run a thumb over Nathalia’s bruises and tell her she’s safe now, and the radio starts humming to life in Solomon’s car. Doc fires at the windscreen like it’ll shut it off and you fire a couple in return, but Aaron’s in the way and there’s no guarantee that you won’t hit Aaron instead.

“AARON!” you scream at him, but he’s still wrestling with Doc, blood pouring down his hand, down his arm. 

“What’s he doing?” Moses asks, tugging at your shirt.

There’s really no answer. Something slams down on your arm and you drop your gun, all too late you realise you’d let the sheriff go unaccounted for. Somewhere in the distance there’s a bunch of cars kicking up dust. They’re not close enough. He lunges for Moses and you jam your fingers into his bullet wound. He screams and you kick him in the stomach, sending him toppling away. 

“I can drive,” Nathalia says, pointing at the car. “I can get us away.”

“You can’t see through the windscreen,” you snap back, like she really is your daughter.

“I can do it!” she returns and it’s involuntary that you kiss her forehead before grabbing her and Moses and sitting them behind the truck.

“Stay here. Do not move unless something starts leaking or smoking, understood?”

“I can drive us away!” Nathalia says.

“I understand,” Moses says. “It’s okay, Nat, she’s helping us.”

Against all better judgement you press the car keys into Nathalia’s hands. “Do not use these.”

She shoves the keys between her fingers and makes a fist.

“Wolverine,” Moses says in awe.

“I won’t drive the car but I will use them,” Nathalia says defiantly.

“Good girl,” you smile, cupping her cheek and repeating the action with Moses. 

“Please don’t use guns, they’re loud,” Moses says. 

Of course. There’s a baseball bat in the bed of Solomon’s truck, and you weigh it in your hands. Maybe Saskia had something to it when she took a baseball bat to Felix. Aaron seems to think the same thing when he grins at you. Actually grins. Even with the blood still pouring down his arm and struggling with Doc.

The sheriff comes at you again and you swing at her in a way that would have Morgan signing you up for the baseball league. He goes stumbling back and you don’t even bother to reach out and grab him until the very last second, grabbing the tips of his fingers and you listen to each finger pop, pop, pop, as they dislocate. He screams like you’ve never heard a grown man scream before.

You pull him up, smacking him into the ground as hard as you possibly can. He splutters and you jam your foot between his shoulder blades.

“Hey!” Nathalia yells and you frown, looking over to her. She throws you a pair of your handcuffs. Smart girl. She smiles at you. You smile back at her. 

That’s when you see her. In the grass, just hidden because that’s how short she is. Gun trained on Doc.

And Aaron.

Because the two of them are still in some sort of sick tango for that fucking knife.

“Faith,” you hiss, trying not to alert the kids. “Honey, put the gun down.”

“I promised I’d do it,” she says through tears. “I promised I’d kill him.”

God, you don’t even know how good a shot she is. She could be brilliant, or she could just be an aim and shoot kind of person and Aaron’s not—

Not wearing his bullet proof vest.

Is he trying to die again?

“Faith, put the gun down.”

“I promised,” she repeats. “It’s my turn. My turn. He killed Dottie’s baby, I told her I’d kill him too.” She sets the gun on her shoulder. “I can’t break a promise.”

“Faith, you do this, and your kids don’t get a mother. They’ve already lost their father, they can’t lose you too. Please.”

“I can’t break a promise.”

Aaron makes some kind of noise that sounds like he’s in pain, and your head snaps to him. The knife scatters across the ground and Aaron’s sure to kick it away. He’s still wrestling with Doc, blood trickling down his face. 

“Faith, Moses doesn’t like guns,” you tell her, stepping closer, reaching out to push the barrel down. “He thinks they’re too loud. Please put it down.”

“They’re the last two left,” Faith says, but she’s shaking like a leaf in the wind. “They’re killing all of us.”

“Faith, put the gun down.”

“Little help,” Aaron grunts, hands pawing at Doc as Doc tries to jam his thumbs into Aaron’s eyes.

“HELP!” Nathalia yells. Faith drops the gun, her hands flying to her mouth. You turn quickly to her, but she doesn’t mean that she needs help.

She means help’s coming.

She’s got the radio clutched in her hand, pointing across the grass that’s flattening at a speed that could only be a car speeding towards the group of you. It’s not slowing down.

“Aaron!” you yell, but he’s not going to back away. You grab Faith and push her towards the truck.

“Can Mom drive?” Nathalia yells, keys dangling.

“Get Moses,” you return to her. “Then she can drive.”

“Sweet,” Nathalia says.

You run to Aaron, grabbing the back of his suit jacket and tug him away from Doc. The Sheriff’s somehow gotten to his feet, and he looks like he could be running at you but you kick Doc off and drag Aaron like you’re about to tell him off when you hear Justin screaming ‘move!’ and Shakespeare’s car comes screaming out of the grass. Not slowing down. Justin launches himself from the drivers seat and somehow the car hits both the sheriff and Doc and launches men, and car, over the cliff. 

Justin rolls after them, you watch him drop over the edge, and whatever noise that leaves you is in no way human as you launch yourself to the cliff edge.

“Hi Ma’am, think you can give me a hand?” Justin says smugly. You watch the car hit the ground below and be engulfed in flames. You might actually kill him when you pull him up.

Reaching as far as you can, you try to reach him but there’s still a good amount of space neither of you can reach. 

Baseball bat.

You lower it down, handle first, and pray to god that it doesn’t slip out of your hands as Justin adjusts his weight until it’s on the bat, and you try to pull him up. Someone grabs your legs and you realise it’s Aaron, anchoring you.

“Pull him up,” Aaron grunts, pulling at your body until you’re all safely away from the edge of the cliff.

“Do I still have a job?” Justin breathes as he lies on his back, heaving for breath. 

“You’re on probation,” you tell him, glaring as hard as you can as the rest of the BAU pull up, Shakespeare and Alannah the first to jump out of the car.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?” Shakespeare roars, before nodding an apology to Nathalia and Moses who both look shocked at his language.

“You said you needed a new car,” Justin says dismissively. 

“Not like THAT,” Shakespeare yells and he’s hauling Justin to his feet. 

Alannah’s looking over Nathalia, even though Nathalia keeps insisting that she’s fine, she can wait until they get to Roseville General Hospital, that Alannah needs to look at the guy with the wounds.

Aaron.

He’s leaning up against the truck, breathing heavily, nursing his hand.

“Idiot,” you tell him, completely breathless, and he leans his head against the truck. You crawl across the space until you’re sitting in his lap, letting Alannah take his hand and clean it, muttering to herself about how deep the wound is.

“Aaron, we have a deal about vests.”

“You have a deal with me about wearing your vest,” he corrects, hissing slightly as Alannah drags an alcohol wipe over his hand.

“It’s an us deal, Aaron,” you tell him harshly, grabbing his jaw. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“I haven’t—”

“That’s not what Emily says,” you interrupt. “You have. And you can’t. You can’t keep doing this, because I can’t tell Jack and Saskia that their dad died because he wanted to play hero. I am not going home to tell our kids that they’ve lost another person has died. Not again. We’re not doing another funeral for another thirty years.”

He gives you a faux glare, but his eyes have glazed over with tears either way. Not just from his hand. 

“Alannah, can I have a wipe please?” you ask, holding your hand out. 

“That looks like it hurts,” Alannah comments, poking your wrist. You hiss but shake your head anyway.

“I’m okay.”

“Okay, but I’m going to wrap that before we leave, and you should ice it and get an x-ray and—”

“Alannah, Aaron,” you tell her, putting her back on track. 

You dab Aaron’s cheek, biting your lip to stop yourself from chastising him.

“I love you, Aaron,” you whisper, running your thumb along his cheek wound. “But I can’t lose you. I don’t care if you don’t think the world deserves you, but we deserve you. I deserve you. And Haley wouldn’t want you to do this, Aaron.”

“Don’t bring Haley into this,” he says, bottom lip quivering.

“I’m right.”

“I know.”

****

You haven’t got a car to go home in, so you’re taking the jet. 

Moses, Nathalia and Faith are safe at home. You, Aaron and Justin swear black and blue that Faith’s gun belongs to either the sheriff or doc. The reservation police make it disappear. And maybe you’ve left Greshwin in shambles, but Dottie’s smiling, and Nathalia’s home, and Jimmy’s been made sheriff and he looks like he’s going to do a pretty good job.

“How’s your wrist?” Aaron whispers when you sit next to him, handing him a cup of lukewarm tea.

“How’s your hand?” you return and Aaron snorts.

You pull your legs up on the chair, leaning into his side. 

“I’m sorry about today,” he murmurs, sliding down his chair so he’s slumped and the team can’t see him over the chairs. “I really am.”

“I know,” you whisper, pushing the arm between you up into the seats so you can nestle yourself completely against him. “Me too.’

“I love you,” he says breathlessly, pressing his face into your hair. “I won’t do it again.”

“If you do, I’m not visiting you in hospital.”

“Deal.”

Conversation peters off and Aaron laces his hand in yours, and within moments you’re both asleep against each other. 

When you wake you’re completely oblivious to the money that exchanged hands between Spence, Emily, Dave and Derek. Someone’s drawn a blanket over the both of you, and it’s a toss up between JJ or Emily because it’s an obnoxious black but it smells like JJ’s rose and champagne perfume.

“We should have tacos for dinner,” Aaron says like the whole day hasn’t happened.

“Why?” But still, you smile.

“It’s the one thing Saskia and Jack agree on. They’re not going to agree on what movie to watch.”

You don’t think you let go of Aaron’s hand all night, only to hug Saskia and Jack and assure the two of them that neither of you are badly injured. Saskia and Jack fall asleep between the two of you in the middle of ‘A New Hope’ and Aaron kisses your hand lightly.

You know he’s saying he won’t do it again.

He knows you don’t believe it.

But it’s enough. It really is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~dark!hotch is not over, but he's trying to be.!~


	28. Chapter 28

Aaron knows he’s late when he’s coming home. The clock in the car tells him that, as it angrily tells him that it’s half passed midnight. The doorman reminds him as he says, “Working late tonight, Mr. Hotchner?” and it’s supposed to be a nice little start to a conversation but it’s just a niggling reminder. He said he’d be home before dinner.

He’s not surprised to find all the locks on the door are, well, locked. He is surprised to find the chain pulled, and that’s impossible to get from the outside, but the house is silent and he’s not about to wake the whole place because he can’t get in.

“Just a second,” comes the hushed whisper of his father-in-law. Aaron makes a noise that acknowledges him as he pulls the door shut again. The chain scrapes and the door opens. “Weren’t sure when you’d be back.”

“Sorry,” Aaron says, frowning. “Was there a case?” He sweeps the room, looking for anything that would show you were in the apartment.

His father-in-law shakes his head. “Just a bad day. I’m set up on the couch, I’ll be here until morning.”

“I can set up the spare room—”

“She asked me to stay on the couch.”

Aaron lets his gaze fall to the small collection of household appliances that could be used as mean weapons if there was an intruder. He nods like it makes sense. It kind of does, but how many times has he said they were safe? That this apartment was safe? Too many times. They’re scattered around the game of solitaire he’s playing.

“Thanks,” Aaron says. “I owe you one.”

“Eh, no problem.” He looks like he’s hesitating to say something, he has this same look in his eye that you get. “They were washing up and Saskia accidentally hit the pot plants,” he says, pointing to the windowsill above the kitchen sink where the pansies used to sit. “I don’t think the pots are salvageable, but I’ve got the pansies and soil in a bowl, I said we could deal with it in the morning.”

“Thanks,” Aaron breathes with a slight quiver to his voice. He gives a brave nod then starts down the hallway.

“Aaron? Just look after each other, okay? And the kids.”

“Sure.”

Aaron goes down the hallway, dropping his bag off in his study. He checks in on Saskia’s room, she’s gotten rid of the loft bed in an effort to ‘rearrange her room’, but right now it just looks like a hurricane hit it. Her loft bed is pressed up against the wall, mostly taken apart, her toys shoved beneath the bed’s skeleton. Her new bed is nowhere near put together, instead she’s opted for a mattress on the floor which looks like it’s going to stay there forever. There are some things you really shouldn’t let an almost teenager do for themselves.

She's not asleep in her bed, Aaron notes. There's a distinct trail of toys that looks more like Jack's doing than anything leading to the room you both share. Somewhere along the way they've abandoned the blanket they were using as a sack and taken what toys they could into their arms, and he's sure the bed is going to be full of toys. 

There's the distinct sound of Haley's voice coming from his room, the same tapes on repeat that Jack always watches. The videos they had made during WITSEC, little time capsules for Aaron. They would have been sweet if it didn't end like it did. He watches for a little bit, Haley trying to play soccer against Jack while you play on Jack’s team. Saskia’s refereeing over the top of her book. Aaron’s glad to see some things haven’t changed.

He gently kneels on the edge of the mattress as he reaches over you to find the remote, instead greeted by Jack popping his head out from under the blanket. He's safely tucked under your chin, holding Saskia's DS in a death grip as he tries to silently train his virtual puppies.

"Hey buddy," Aaron whispers. "I think it's time to put that away." 

"Can I finish the walk?" Jack whispers. Aaron watches you shift slightly, you grip over Jack's waist moving just that little bit.

"Finish this one walk," Aaron smiles, kissing his head. “This one, don’t start another.”

"It's pj time, Daddy," Jack adds. Saskia mumbles something and, yes, Aaron Hotchner is going to have to fight for a spot in his own bed.

"I know buddy," he whispers. 

When he's out of the shower (and safely in his pj's) the TV's off. The remote is put back on the dresser and Saskia's DS is on the nightstand, Jack's made a dent in the duvet for Aaron to place himself between Jack and Saskia. Aaron debates it, but ends up picking Saskia up and putting her in the crease in the duvet before settling in himself.

“Night Daddy,” Jack says, squished back underneath his mountain of blankets. 

“Night, Bud,” Aaron whispers back.

He’s half asleep when he hears the sniffle. It draws him from his almost-sleep state, turning on his side to see Saskia with her head buried between her arms, sobbing into them.

“Sas,” he whispers, placing a hand on her back.

“I didn’t mean to do it and I upset Mom and I upset Jack and I didn’t want to make Mom cry but—” 

Aaron sighs, shifting so he can put his arms around her and pull her close to him. “It’s okay, Mom’s not mad.”

“But what if she is and she’s just not saying it?”

“She’s not mad, Sas, I promise,” Aaron murmurs, kissing her hair.

“I didn’t mean to make Mom cry.”

“I know, Mom knows, it’s okay,” Aaron repeats and she nods into his chest. “You didn’t make her upset. There’s just a lot of stuff going on and sometimes people cry, that’s alright.” 

“It doesn’t feel alright.”

“I know.”

When Saskia’s asleep again, Aaron texts Prentiss. She responds almost immediately. She already knows what happened. Turns out, your father is far more efficient than he gave him credit for.

***

“Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom,” Saskia says, raising you from your restless sleep. You’d had half a dream with Haley in it, it had been nice until she’d started disappearing from the dream at weird times. 

“Sassy?” you groan, inching your eyes open. Aaron’s got an arm thrown over you, and you can hear Jack pitter pattering out in the lounge with your dad. Saskia’s squatting with her chin on the mattress, looking at you with big doe eyes.

“Aunty Emily’s here.”

You frown. You don’t think you organised anything with her, but then you can’t argue because you really could do with a day with her. 

“Are you sure she’s not here for Dad?” you groan and Saskia nods. “Alright, I’ll be ten minutes.”

Saskia nods and then she’s swooping out of the room. You kiss Aaron’s forehead as you get up, digging around your cupboard for something appropriate to wear, before having the quickest shower of your life and coming out to the lounge looking semi-human. Aaron’s not far behind you, although he’s just pulled on a jumper and a pair of jeans over his boxers and t-shirt. 

“Hi, Em,” you smile, pulling your hair back. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I know,” she grins. She’s got Jack on her back, spinning him around so quickly you’re not sure you want to deal with the fall out of Jack feeling sick for the rest of the day. 

“Put me down!” Jack giggles, but he clutches onto Emily’s neck tighter and tighter until you’re sure the only way Emily will be able to put him down is if she passes out. 

“Thought we could do something today,” she offers and she backs towards the couch. “We’re going down, 3… 2… 1!” She drops Jack and he collapses onto the couch, bouncing a couple of times. She gives this little look at Aaron and you know immediately that he texted her. “Breakfast?” Emily offers.

You nod and look to Saskia who turns you down with a smile. “I’m seeing my Emily. Diane’s coming to pick us up and we’re going shopping.”

“Do you want some money?”

“Nope, I saved up all my pocket money.”

“Good girl,” you say with a small smile, kissing her hair. “Slip her a twenty,” you whisper to Aaron before kissing him goodbye, following the action with Jack. Emily goes to the kitchen, grabs the bowl of pansies, and holds them in front of her. You’re about to say something but there’s a look in her eye that tells you not to argue. 

She slips her arm in yours, waving to the kids. “We’ll see you all later!” Emily says, then she’s taking you away.

***

“Em,” you say cautiously as she pulls into the cemetery parking lot. 

“Come with me,” she says as she pulls the keys out of the ignition. She grabs the bowl of pansies and she’s getting out the car. You wait for a bit, thinking maybe if you don’t follow her she’ll just get back in the car and you’ll leave.

It doesn’t work.

You follow her, weaving between the headstones until you get to Haley’s. Emily pulls a trowel from her waist band and hands it to you.

“I cleared it this morning. Kind of, turns out that here you don’t have to get this kind of thing cleared. As long as they're ground covering, they let you do it.”

“Do what?”

“Plant flowers.” She kneels and beckons you to join her. “Saskia told me Haley’s looking after everyone, with your mom. Perfect place for these flowers to go is right here.”

So you spend almost an hour methodically clearing a nice little spot, filling it in with the flowers and a couple of pieces from Jack and Saskia’s pots. 

“Perfect,” Emily says.

You lean back on your heels and stroke Haley’s headstone. “Yeah,” is all you manage to say. “You thought of this all on your own?” you frown, looking anywhere but the massive reminder that your best friend is dead.

“Your dad did most of the thinking,” she admits. “He planted a tree by your mom’s before the ground coverage policy was enforced.”

You smile at the memory. You’re pretty sure he got in trouble for that one, you remember taking a ride in a car that definitely wasn’t your dad’s. Emily smiles at you and there’s something in the way that the light catches in her jet black hair that reminds you of a woman you met a long time ago. An arms dealer, she used to filter her weapons through a bar you were working at.

Best not to bring that up.

“Something wrong?” Emily asks. You shake your head.

“You just reminded me of someone, that’s all.”

“Good memory, I hope.”

You snort. “There are very few good memories from that time of my life, but she was alright I guess.”

“Anything you can tell me?”

“Nothing the government would be happy with.”

“Fair enough.” She stands and extends a hand to help you stand. “Anywhere you want to go?”

“Ever gone rock climbing?”

****

To start Emily looked like she was going to have a heart attack. Apparently, her idea of rock climbing hadn’t involved bouldering. You walk half the trail, run the rest, and climb up the rock face like it’s nothing, then have to scale down it to convince Emily to come up too.

When you’re both at the top the sun’s setting, colouring the horizon orange and pink, the clouds swirled like colourful fairy floss. 

“Wow,” Emily says. “I wasn’t sure where you were going when you took me up here, but this is incredible.”

“I used to come up here at the academy, do all my readings. Nobody else wanted to climb up.”

“I can see why,” Emily scoffs. “That was terrifying.”

“Wait until you have to get down again.”

You think Emily might actually go pale. You punch her arm playfully. 

“It’s fine, Em, really.”

“Are we even going to get back to the car before midnight?”

You point down an old, beaten path, that leads straight to the carpark. “It’s like five minutes that way.”

“So why did we just do all that?” Emily groans, pointing behind her to the path you’d just done.

“Because it’s prettier and makes it harder to climb up here when your legs are already shaky.”

“Unbelievable,” Emily laughs. 

“Come, sit. There’s only so long I get kid free.” You sit, swinging your legs over the edge of the rock. Emily joins you, shuffling forward tentatively and swinging her legs with yours. 

“How are Jack and Saskia doing?”

“They’re alright, last night was tough, but they’re uh… they’re getting through it. We’re getting through it.”

“Hotch didn’t say much, in fact he didn’t say anything at all really, but I guessed it wasn’t the best night.”

“I think you mean the best day. We had a mandatory day off, Justin’s still on probation and there were a couple of enquires and the Director personally told us to take some time off. First thing I did was drive to Haley’s, cause Tuesdays were her day off and I thought we could get lunch or something. I, uh, didn’t remember until I’d pulled up. There’s a new family living there now. They look happy. They ripped up the front yard and put in some really fucking ugly flowers. Haley would have murdered them.”

“She spent a long time on her garden?”

“All the time.” You run your thumb across your bottom lip. “Every time something happened that made her sad, boom, new rose bush. She never told Aaron, but god were there a lot of them. At home, where we grew up, she had this… perfect rose garden. We didn’t have much water, the dam was running low and the tanks weren’t for us, but Dad used to let me collect all our shower and bath and sink water to take down and water Haley’s garden.”

“Genuine country kid,” Emily teases. 

“That’s me.” 

You wait until the sun’s mostly down before stumbling your way back to the car. There’s a couple of voicemails from Aaron, but when you listen to them it’s just Jack mucking around with the “I love you!”’s with Aaron saying “Jack that’s my phone” in the background. The last one is just Aaron asking when you’ll be home.

“Hey, Em? Do you want to stay for dinner? I’m thinking of picking up Thai on the way home.”

“I’d love to,” she smiles.

****

“Night Ammi,” Jack says, grabbing your face and kissing both your cheeks. You put your wineglass and return the two kisses.

“Night Jack, Sweet dreams.”

He nods and gives a tiny wave to Emily (for some reason he’s gone all shy again) then Aaron’s scooping him up and airplane flying him away to his room. Saskia’s in the bathroom singing to some new band she and (her) Emily found on her shopping trip. Saskia had found the extra twenty dollars. She spent it on the toy German Shepherd that Jack’s been obsessing over for weeks. He loves it.

“Ammi?” Emily asks. “I wanted to ask at the funeral but it didn’t seem like the right time.”

You smile just a little and grab your wine glass again. “Aunty-Mom. While we were in WITSEC Jack and Saskia agreed they’d ‘share moms’ so ‘Ammi’ became the name for both of us.”

“That’s really sweet.”

“Yeah.”

It’s just before 10 when Emily leaves, only because Aaron starts yawning like an old man and he almost knocks himself out when he nods off, head slamming into the arm of the sofa. 

“Did Jack tire you out, old man?” you tease once you’ve seen Emily off. Aaron nods, yawning into the back of his hand. “Thank-you for texting Emily.”

“Anytime,” Aaron says as he slides his arm around your waist.

“How are your meds treating you?” you ask as he tugs the two of you onto the couch.

“Wish I wasn’t taking them.”

“And what do we tell Jack when he says the same thing?”

“That if he wasn’t taking them he would get even more sick,” Aaron says blandly like it’s seared into his brain. It probably is.

“Yes indeed.”

“Your pain meds?”

“Three weeks off,” you nod firmly. “Threw them out when I realised I was taking a couple every other day like a tic tac.”

“You still getting your meds switched next week?”

“Yeah. And I have a fertility appointment next week.”

Aaron nods. “Do you want me to come?”

You think about it, then nod slowly. “Yeah, if you’ve got time off.”

“Consider it done.” He brushes your cheek, moving the invisible hair that lives there, and kisses you lightly. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I know,” you whisper like the kids are going to hear you. “I just want to know if I can have anymore kids, y’know?”

“I know.” He nods and rocks the two of you. “Glad you and Sas made up.”

“Remind me not to go to bed without telling her I’m not mad,” you tell him with an over exaggerated sigh. 

“That TV’s gotta leave our room. It was fine when you were recuperating, but I don’t want the kids getting used to it.”

“Did you just give me an ultimatum for not fighting with my daughter?”

“Yes.”

“Then you have to get a new carpet for that dining room, because this all started when Sas saw the bloodstain when she got her chair caught on the rug.”

“Deal,” Aaron says.

“Deal,” you return.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~some sad and cute fluffies~  
> ~and s.m.u.t. makes an appearance~

Despite already knowing, the news hits hard. Hits hard enough that neither of you say anything as you sit in the car, watching the rain dribble down the windscreen.

"He didn't say it was impossible to get pregnant," you say at last, turning to Aaron. He's got his jaw set and a strong grip on the steering wheel even though the car's not on. 

"Close enough to impossible," Aaron says. You don't acknowledge that you agree with him. "We already knew everything he said." 

"Never hurts to have a professional opinion," you counter.

Aaron shakes his head. "This hurts. This hurts a lot." 

You reach over and pry his hand from the steering wheel, squeezing it. "Yeah," you breathe, blinking back tears. "It's okay," you say more for your benefit than Aaron's.

"It's not okay," Aaron grumbles. He rests his head against the window, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm sorry." 

"It's not your fault." 

"If I had just listened to you--" 

"Woah, Cowboy, how far are you planning to go back with this self loathing thing?" You squeeze his shoulder. "This is not your fault, and it's not my fault, it's the two Bastard's who decided to stab me's fault." 

"You didn't want to come back, I told you to come back."

"Aaron?"

"That first day you were in the office. You didn't want to come back and I told you to come on the case."

"By that logic, this is David Rossi's fault. He reeled me back in."

"I'll be sure to send him a thank you card." 

"I bet he's never gotten a 'thanks, we can't have kids anymore' card."

Aaron blows out his cheeks and shakes his head softly, squeezing your hand tight. He doesn’t say anything else. Neither do you. The rain picks up again, methodically hitting the car roof until it lulls you into some sort of security.

“Can we just… go home?” you ask, closing your eyes. “I know I said I’d go back to work but my head, I just can’t--”

“I was so scared you wanted to go to work,” Aaron says and it’s almost a chuckle. “I think I would have just sat in my office staring at my name plate.” He turns the ignition and taps his finger against the steering wheel. “Do you want to get brownies?”

God, the way he looks at you makes you think you’re back in highschool when you couldn’t go to the river because it was raining too much. You’d drive around in his shitty car until you could pick Haley up and go to one of the diners like you’re in an Archie Comic or something. 

You kiss his knuckles.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

****

You’ve moved the chair that Aaron has at the end of the bed (why, you’ll never know) out of the way, and pulled out a picnic blanket he had stored under the bed. You might live with Aaron, but there are some things that still surprise you. 

And despite saying you’ll move the second TV out, it’s still in the room, ‘The Mummy’ playing on it quietly as both you and Aaron push your brownies around the take away container with all the ice cream melted at the bottom. 

“These don’t taste as good when they’re not at the diner,” Aaron says quietly like he’s ashamed of admitting it.

“They’re really not,” you chuckle.

Your phone rings and you think about leaving it, but it’s persistent enough for Aaron to push your mobile to you. You frown, tapping your finger against the side of your phone.

“It’s Spence,” you say at last, then answer. “Hey Spence, everything okay?”

“I’m doing well, yeah,” he says. “I was going to ask if you wanted to come to lunch but I don’t think you came into work today. Neither did Hotch.”

“Yeah, no, sorry Spence I didn’t make it into the office.”

“The Doctor’s appointment wasn’t so good?”

“Yeah.” You give Hotch a tight smile and hold your hand out to Aaron, who closes the distance and squeezes it tight. “It’s alright.”

“I could take Saskia and Jack to the park? After school? I-I could pick them up, we’ve only got paperwork and Morgan and Rossi let us leave early.”

“You hate going to the park,” you say, but you’re sure that you can hear Spence shrug.

“I would like to take Saskia and Jack to the park,” Spencer repeats.

“Okay, sure, I’ll text Saskia, she’ll grab Jack after school and can meet you wherever you want, you can head to the park.”

Aaron frowns and mouths ‘Reid? Park?’ at you and you smile. 

“I’ll call you before we head back to yours,” Spencer says. “I’m really sorry that you didn’t get the outcome you wanted.”

“Thanks Spence.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

You hang up and throw your phone onto your bed.

“You told Spence about the appointment?” Aaron frowns. You shake your head.

“No, but I think Sas told him anything, and everything, she knew.” 

“Of course she did,” Aaron smiles affectionately. “She’s a good kid.”

“I know, I raised her,” you say cheekily, smiling at him. “It’s hard for me to raise a demon.”

“I’m glad you can help me with Jack then ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“Can I tell you a secret? Neither do I. All guess work.”

“Good guess work.”

“Your guess work is pretty good too, Aar,” you smile, shifting closer to him and taking some of his brownie. “Saskia wouldn’t like you if it wasn’t. I kinda like you too.”

“No way, I kinda like you too,” Aaron chuckles. 

You cup his face, moving the brownies out the way with your feet and kiss Aaron. It’s tentative at first, your fingers curling into his hair until Aaron grabs your legs and tugs you onto his lap. He sighs into your mouth, it morphs into a soft moan and his hands find your hips.

It’s not long before Aaron’s fumbling with your clothes, pulling them off and dumping them to the ground. You work at his shirt buttons, Aaron discarding his tie, Aaron drops his head to your neck and nips at the skin.

“What’re we doing here?” he says into your neck, his voice vibrating your whole body.

“I hope you’re not breaking up with me,” you breathe, half the sentence practically lost as Aaron kisses the hollow of your throat.

“I just want to know if we’re having sex,” he says, catching your earlobe between his teeth and tugging lightly. “Or if I just keep kissing you like a teenager.”

“God, don’t offer me sex then give an option to keep kissing me,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close. “If you’re up for it, I’m up for it.”

“I’m up for it,” Aaron says and he blushes so deeply you find yourself giggling. Because, yes, he absolutely is up for it. “Bed,” he says like you could stand. Instead he stands, half throwing-half placing you onto the bed. 

He hooks his finger over your underwear, pulling them off. He runs a finger up your centre, latching himself onto your breast as one hand rolls your nipple.

“Aaron,” you gasp, arching up into him. He says something you don’t quite hear because he pushes one finger, then two, into you and starts thrusting them until you’re grinding against him trying to get extra friction.

You work a hand up between the two of you, tracing your hands over his chest, fingers gliding over the ridges of his scars. He pauses, eyelashes fluttering against your breast.

“I can stop,” you offer, curling your fingers so they leave his skin. Aaron shakes his head.

“No, no, that was… nice,” he says, like he feels guilty about it. “I… I just don’t want you to see Him when… when you see me.”

“All the money in the world wouldn’t be enough for me to have touched Him, Aaron,” you tell him and he pulls up enough to kiss you. “I could never see Him when I see you.” You arch up into him and return your hands to his chest. You watch him as his face goes soft, then nuzzles into your neck and starts his fingers thrusting into you again.

“C-can I ask you to do something?” you say tentatively. He bites his lip, looking at you softly and nodding. “I… I need you to…” it feels silly, but you’ve been thinking about it since Felix slammed you up against the wall. That you need Aaron to do it to keep… god. 

You grab his hand and press it lightly to your throat. “I need someone safe to…” you trail off. “I need you to hold it, I don’t want you to choke me or anything I just…”

Aaron nods, tracing a finger over your throat then kissing the soft skin. “I know,” he murmurs. “I know.”

Honestly, it’s not the first time either of you have done ‘someone safe’. It took months, but you and Aaron both worked up to you being on top. There’s still days where he can’t do it, that your body over him reminds him of Foyet stabbing him over and over, but it’s getting better. You’re proud of him.

“Same as usual?” Aaron murmurs. “Traffic lights?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, whining as Aaron pulls his fingers from you. He flips you to your stomach, pulling your hips up. He presses himself against your entrance and kisses your shoulder.

“Good?”

“Aaron,” you groan, rutting against him. You’re sure he smirks as he enters you, pausing as you adjust to him. “Fuck me,” you gasp at last. “Please.”

He does just that, hand hesitantly finding your neck and pulling you up, flush against him. His other hand traces circles over your clit, your body responding with a string of moans, head tossing back against his shoulder. He moans into your ear, tightening his hand just that little bit and, honestly, you feel guilty that it feels so right.

“Shit,” you moan, leaning into his hand. Aaron hesitates, then keeps it there, face pressed to your neck. “Aaron,” is all you manage to gasp before all thoughts are lost while your legs start to shake, body twitching with the symptoms of pre-orgasm.

Aaron knows, he drops you to the mattress, body pressed against your back as he thrusts into you, hard. You breathe heavily into the duvet, clutching at the sheets, then losing the world entirely as you cum. He thrusts you through your orgasm, then follows with his own.

Neither of you move for a solid couple of minutes, then Aaron pulls out of you and collapses on the bed beside you.

“You’re pretty,” you giggle, reaching out to brush a bead of sweat from his temple. “Thank-you, Aaron.”

He smiles, looking at you through hooded eyes. Then he pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around you.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I’m flattered.”

There’s a gunshot on the TV and both of you are guilty of jumping slightly, before remembering that ‘The Mummy’ is on, and you’ve both just been startled by Brendan Fraser. Both of you end up giggling.

“I’ll go get the shower started,” Aaron says.

“I don’t want to get up,” you protest as he untangles himself. 

“Then I’ll start the bath.”

“That sounds nice.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the darn tootin cutest thing i've written in a WHILE.

Jack's wearing his suit with a tiny little red tie that makes him look way too much like his father. Saskia's got on a cute little flower covered dress that she picked out with Garcia.

There's no particular reason why other than Saskia and Jack wanted to go out to dinner and they insisted that everyone had to dress up. So you all have. 

Saskia looks like she’s proud of herself for foiling all of you when you turn up to the restaurant and the team are already there. Well, honestly, you think Saskia’s only foiled you because Aaron and Jack don’t look at all surprised.

The look Dave gives you tells you he's been planning it for a while, especially when Jack and Saskia don't have to look at the menu, they know exactly what they want. You wave to Will, and Kevin, who's hellos are lost in the sea of greetings from the team. As you sit, Henry sticks his head out from under the table cloth and waves at you. 

"Hi Henry," you smile, waving back at him. "What's all this for?" You frown at the table, waiting for someone to answer you, but there's still a smile on your face.

"We missed you!" Garcia says. "And Rossi said he'd pay for dinner." 

You give an over dramatic gasp as Aaron takes your hand under the table and squeezes it. Spencer leans behind Jack and whispers something into Saskia's ear and she gives him two thumbs up with a massive smile. 

"Are they planning something?" You whisper to Aaron and he shrugs, turning to Morgan who drags you into whatever he's talking about. 

Morgan, Emily and Spence are the only ones who really know about the results, that it’s near impossible for you to have kids. Morgan because he’d stormed into your office the day you’d both returned to work and said “what crawled up Hotch’s ass and died?” and despite it being hilarious, you had to tell him. Spencer because he’d somehow jumped to a cancer conclusion, and Emily because she asked an off hand comment about baby Hotchners and you’d cried in the bathroom. Emily says making you cry in the bathroom is her new super power. It’s been a couple of months, but it’s still a weird spot to be in.

“Where did you get Jack’s tie?” JJ asks, leaning into the conversation. “It’s so cute.”

“They have matching ties,” you stage whisper, pointing between Aaron and Jack. “I’ve no idea where they found them, but probably when they went suit shopping.” JJ looks like she might explode with happiness while she looks between the two of them. 

Jack catches JJ looking and climbs into your lap, whispering something to you that you have to ask him to repeat because you don’t hear it properly and he just grins and grins and grins. So much like Haley. You kiss his hair as he settles with his back to your chest and takes your hands.

He’s pretty quiet for a kid his age. Haley always said he was quieter than the other kids, but it’s hilarious to see him get so quiet around new people when you know he’s the one who keeps you and Aaron up the latest because he talks to Saskia through the wall.

“You doing okay, Jack-Jack?” you whisper when he starts talking quietly to himself.

“I’m counting,” he says, although you’re sure thirty-two doesn’t come before twenty, but he’s trying and it’s sweet.

“What’re you counting?”

“All the little diamonds,” he says. “There’s a lot.” He picks your hand up for you and points to your engagement ring. 

“There is, isn’t there.”

“Yeah.” He holds your hand close to his face and Emily grins at you as you pull it off your finger and hand it to Jack. He grins and puts it on his thumb. It’s too big, but he doesn’t seem to mind, he just keeps moving it around his fingers.

“Don’t lose it,” you whisper into his ear and he shakes his head.

“This tie is itchy.”

“Do you want to take it off?”

Jack scrunches up his face then nods. “Yes please but I don’t have anywhere to put it.”

“I can put it in my bag.”

He nods and struggles with the knot, gasping when he almost drops your ring onto the table. You push his hair back from his face when he looks at you like you’re about to tell him off, then undo his tie for him.

“You’re really good at that,” Jack says and you undo his top button so he doesn’t look like some kid from a private school. 

“I’ve had lots of practice.”

Jack stays with you until he gets tired of ‘adult’ talk and says he’s going to sit back with Saskia. 

Saskia’s showing off her chunky hair ties to Garcia, they’ve got bells and different coloured net triangles sticking out of it, and if Saskia shakes her head she jingles. Sometimes Jack just reaches over and shakes her hair so she jingles. Everyone finds it way too endearing.

“We have to go on a walk,” Garcia says when dinner’s over, grabbing Saskia and Jack’s hands. There’s a collective groan but Saskia nods enthusiastically and jumps up, taking Henry’s hand when he reaches out to her. 

Jack calls out for Aaron and he’s immediately kissing your cheek and joining Jack. JJ slips her arm in yours, leaning her head on your shoulder. 

“Hi Jayje,” you smile, resting your cheek on her hair. 

“Sorry if I upset Saskia,” she says and you frown.

“I don’t think you did.”

“When you were at the hospital.”

“Jayje,” you laugh quietly, kissing her hair quickly. “Water under the bridge.” As if Saskia’s proving you right, she leans down and lets Henry climb onto her back. “I didn’t know that you did.”

“Yeah, I told her everything was going to be fine and she hissed at me.” JJ sounds so guilty and you can’t help but laugh just a little.

“She was stressed, Jayje, and that’s not your fault. Thanks for letting her hiss at you.”

She blushes and drops her gaze, nodding. You squeeze her arm in response. 

Things start to get fishy when Saskia pries you from JJ, handing an incredibly sleepy Henry over to JJ.

“Mom, come on,” Saskia says, tugging on your hand. Aaron grins at you as he picks Jack up in his arms, Jack yawning as he settles into Aaron’s shoulder. 

“Here,” Saskia says at long last, pointing to something, although what you’re not quite sure. Jack seems to wake up at it, nodding excitedly.

“Sassy where are we going?”

“On a walk,” she says dismissively. You do have to note that she’s actively avoided walking on anything but the path, and despite the fact that you’ve been one step away from removing your heels all night but Saskia kept tutting at you. 

“Up here,” Saskia says. She’s led you to this cute seat looking out over a sea of house and street lights. “Look, it’s pretty.”

“It is,” you say. “How’d you find it?”

“Spence,” she says with a shrug. “He helped me and Jack find it.”

“Why?” 

“This,” Saskia says and she points behind you. You squint at her, questioning that silly little look on Saskia’s face that she always gets when she’s actually managed to do something under your nose.

When you turn to where Saskia’s pointed, Aaron’s down on one knee, holding out your engagement ring. You suddenly remember that Jack never gave it back to you. For a moment, your whole body short circuits. You know exactly what he’s doing, but for some reason your brain won’t compute. 

“Aaron,” you half laugh, but Saskia whacks your arm.

“Dad wrote a speech that he has to forget, don’t interrupt him.”

“Okay,” you whisper, squeezing her shoulder.

“I, uh,” Aaron starts, with a frown. 

Jack smirks and puts his hands over his mouth. “He forgot.” He’s trying so, so, so, hard not to giggle as he goes to Aaron and presses his mouth to Aaron’s ear, remembers it’s Aaron’s bad ear, and goes to the otherside. 

“That’s not what I wrote,” Aaron says dramatically as he kisses Jack’s cheek. Jack shrugs.

“It’s true, Dad. That’s all you have to say.” Jack looks at him with those big, brown eyes looking at him in complete earnest. “Your speech was all mumbo-jumbo anyway.”

“It was,” Saskia says with a shrug. Aaron looks at them with a look that’s playfully offended.

“Look, Y/n, we’ve been here before,” Aaron starts, and Jack shakes his head like he’s disappointed in Aaron’s actions. “More times than most.”

“Less than Uncle Dave,” Saskia says and you’re suddenly aware that the team are dotted around in a semi circle around you guys because Dave groans loudly. 

“We have been here less times than Dave,” Aaron agrees. “But we’re catching up.”

“Dad,” Jack and Saskia say like they’re dragging him back on track.

Aaron looks at Jack and Jack nods, rolling his hands over each other like Haley used to. 

“Y/n, you make me smile when I don’t want to smile.” (Jack’s face lights up and you know that’s exactly what he whispered to Aaron). “And I can’t, don’t want to, imagine a world where you’re not there. Where you and Sas aren’t here with me and Jack.” 

Saskia grins and bounces on her toes. She looks at you with big, excited eyes and a massive grin that’s impossible to wipe off her face.

“I know I can be one of the most frustrating men in the world, and that I work too late, and I never do what I’m told--”

“He doesn’t ramble like this with unsubs, does he?” Saskia says and you rub her shoulder because backhanding her seems too harsh.

“And that I ramble,” Aaron adds. “W… Will you marry me?”

“This is the part where you say yes,” Saskia whispers.

“I know, Sassy,” you whisper back. “Aaron, of course I’ll marry you. You already know that.” 

The smile that breaks over his face echoes that of his sons as you close the distance between the two of you, taking Aaron’s face in your hands as you kiss him, he wraps you up in his arms until you’re completely squashed against him. 

“I’ve gotta put your ring back on,” Aaron says against your lips, and you’re starting to pick up on the team murmuring around the two of you. 

“Yeah,” you laugh, and you’re pretty sure that you started crying, happy tears of course. Aaron kisses your hand before sliding the ring back on. You catch Jack grinning at you and slip from Aaron’s grasp to kneel in front of Jack.

“Did you give Dad my ring?” you say, pressing a finger under his chin softly. He looks at you with a chubby cheeked smile and nods. “You did a pretty good job, I had no idea.”

“Sassy and I had five different ways to get your ring,” he says, then he puts his arms around your neck and hugs you. “I like you and Dad being together and I like that you look after each other’s hearts. Mommy said that’s really important.”

You nod into Jack’s shoulder and muss with his hair, kissing his cheek.

“It is really important.”

“And then you and Daddy look after me and Sassy’s hearts and I like that too.” 

“Jackie, I will always look after your heart,” you whisper. Jack’s face lights up so much you think he might burst and become a star. 

“Guess what,” Jack says.

“What?” you whisper dramatically.

“We all organised this when Aunty Emily came over. And then, and then, we kept organising little things and we did it all in secret. Daddy said you probably knew but I know you didn’t because when you pretend that you don’t know something you ask silly questions and there were no silly questions.”

“You surprised me pretty good,” you tell him. “And you too, Miss Sassy.”

“There is a park down there,” Saskia says, pointing down away from where you are. “Spence wasn’t lying.”

“That’s okay, come here,” you laugh, opening your arm out to her to hug her. She grins as she joins the three of you, grabbing Aaron’s wrist and dragging him with her. You all huddle together, hugging each other tight. 

It’s a breath before the team join you, Garcia squishing you all up and making noises of affection that only sound right from her. 

“We filmed the whole thing,” Garcia says happily. “It was super cute.”

“Of course it was, it was Aaron,” you say and Saskia makes a gagging noise. 

It’s a long night of congratulations for your (second) engagement, broken up only because Saskia starts to shut down and it’s too dark outside to draw so she starts pulling up handfuls of grass, and Jack’s asleep in Aaron’s arms, his hand wrapped around your hair with a firm grip. 

So when JJ says her, Will and Henry are heading home, you and Aaron make your excuses to leave too. It takes a while to get Jack in his seat, but Saskia gets in the car far quicker than you’ve ever seen her. She’s clutching Haley’s necklace in her hands, running her thumb along the amulet.

“Sassy?” you whisper, squatting next to her. 

“I miss Aunty Haley but I know she’ll be happy about today.”

“I miss her too, Sweet.”

“I’m going to tell her when we’re home.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Me and Jack both have a special candle from Dad and when we light then we can talk to Aunty Haley without visiting her.”

“I know, me and Dad have one too.”

Saskia kisses your cheek. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Sassy,” you whisper, kissing her cheek back.

***

Jack and Saskia are asleep, safe in their beds, Saskia’s Haley candle is blown out. You’d trusted her enough to let her light it, and you had thought you could leave her but Aaron hovered near her door for a ridiculous amount of time then caught the candle before it fell from her hand as she fell asleep.

“You’ve done that before,” you whisper to Aaron and he nods.

“She’s a good kid but she’ll always falling asleep when she looks at the flame.”

“That’s either really sweet or we’re raising a psychopath.”

“We’re?” Aaron says with a grin.

“Together or not at all, that’s marriage, right?”

“I guess so,” he says proudly, kissing you quickly.

“Y’know you didn’t have to propose again, we are already married.”

“Shut up, I was doing something nice.”

“It was very nice.”

He grins as he wraps his arms around you, waddling the two of you towards the bedroom.

“I’m impressed you pulled it all off with the team,” you tell him.

“So am I. I thought for sure someone was going to tell you.”

“Nope, no one.”

He walks you to the mattress, your knees buckling as you fall against the mattress. “No offense,” Aaron says. “But that’s the last time I’m proposing to you.”

“Two proposals, two weddings, seems fitting.”

“Seems fitting,” Aaron agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was fun to write. I think we might... have the wedding next chapter. i could be wrong, but it's what i feel in my bones.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~this is all happening before that climactic end to season 5, that hasn't even happened yet~~

Traditions or no, Penelope Garcia says you’re 110% not allowed to sleep in the same house as Aaron Hotchner the night before your wedding. She bundles you up when you come into the office with Jack and Saskia, taking Saskia’s hand. Saskia totally organised half of it from the way she smiles.

“Bye Ammi,” Jack says with a wave that only uses his fingers. So he knew about it too. 

“Bye Jack,” you laugh. He gives you a quick hug, then he’s running off into the bullpen to latch himself onto Morgan who’s hovering over Spence’s desk. 

Aaron waves goodbye from his office, where Dave’s standing guard. Jack blows you kisses with the cheekiest smile he can muster and you’re filled with horror at what the boys actually have planned for tonight. If you’ll even have a house by the time you get home.

“Emi!” Saskia yells as Emily comes down the hallway with JJ. “Lock!” 

And like Emily knows exactly what Saskia’s saying, Emily’s rushing to your side and taking your free arm. There’s nowhere for you to move. You’re sandwiched between Penelope all the way to the car. Emily doesn’t even let you drive with Saskia alone, she plops herself in the passenger seat and starts going through your CD collection. 

“These are all super basic,” Emily says dismissively and you hear a ‘thunk’ as Saskia smacks the back of her chair.

“They’re not basic, they’re good.”

“This is country music,” Emily says, flashing a CD into the backseat. “Bad country music.”

“That’s Dad’s,” Saskia says in an almost identical dismissive tone. “We don’t have any say in that boots, boobs and beer combo.”

“Saskia,” you scold but it’s not got any bite to it. She’s right.

“We’ve got Taylor Swift though.”

“Gross,” Emily says, then she picks up Haley’s Fleetwood Mac album.

“Not today,” you say softly. “Random pick of anything but that.”

“Okay.” She gives you a small nod and doesn’t question it, thankfully. “Taylor Swift?” Emily asks, splaying the two CD’s you own in Saskia’s direction. She’s recovered from the interaction far quicker than you expected her to.

“Oh, oh, me and Aunty Jess bought the new one after school.” Saskia digs around her bag and pulls out the new album. 

“We shall listen to that then,” Emily smiles. She lets Saskia unwrap the plastic and carefully pop out the CD, handing it forward. 

“There’s something in there,” you say, pointing to the CD player. 

“Don’t stress,” Emily smiles, sticking the CD on her finger like a ring and poking your cheek. “I know how to use a car stereo.”

You’re halfway through the CD when Saskia stops her struggling to sing with the lyric book and taps your shoulder.

“Could we get brownies for everyone?” Saskia asks. “I think everyone would like the brownies.”

“Chocolate?” Emily says.

“What other types are there?” Saskia responds with a frown. 

“Can we get brownies?” Emily says, turning on the closest thing to a whiny child voice that you think Emily can do. “Please, please, please, please.”

“Okay but we have to just get the brownies, not with the ice cream.” 

“I will text Garcia and tell her she needs to have ice-cream,” Emily says with a mischievous smile. Saskia cheers from the back seat. 

****

“We brought an important package,” Saskia says as you get to Garcia’s place. She brandishes the brown paper bag and puts it on Garcia’s bench. 

“Is that why you’re late?” JJ says accusingly. 

“Just wait until you get your fingers on these puppies,” Emily says as she reaches around you to grab the brownies. You swat her hand away and she retracts it quickly like you’ve burned her.

“Pen, hun, where do you keep your bowls?” 

She almost answers but Saskia’s already grabbing them out from the cupboard. 

"I have been smelling these this whole ride here," Emily groans like it's torture. "I wasn't even allowed to look where we were, I had to sit blind folded in the car."

"It's a secret!" Saskia says defensively. "You can't know it's location." 

"Understood," Emily says with a nod. 

"We even debated telling Dad."

"And did you tell Hotch?"

Saskia shrugs, defeated. "Yeah in the end we told him. It's okay, though, he takes me more than Mom does." 

She looks so proud of herself as she grabs a spoon and starts scooping ice-cream into the bowls. She drizzles on the semi-warm fudge and breaks chocolate over the top them runs them out to Garcia and JJ. 

Emily takes yours out, Saskia’s balanced on her forearm, and the moment she sees Saskia she somehow manages to get it on her head. Saskia actually looks impressed until she realises that’s her brownie and if it falls she hasn’t got any and then she goes very, very serious.

“Emily,” Saskia says, her face becoming very serious, and she sounds all too much like Aaron in that exact moment. Emily sees it too because she half looks horrified, half impressed, and she takes the brownie off her head and hands it to Saskia.

“You, my dear, will get far in life with a voice like that.”

“I know,” Saskia says with a cheeky smile. “That’s what Dad says.”

You’re all playing a game on monopoly that’s surprisingly friendly when Morgan rings you. You hesitate to pick up, but Emily promises not to say anything to JJ and Penelope--the current day man police. So you slip out of the game, making the ‘I need the bathroom’ excuse.

“Hello?” you say with a frown.

“Hi Ammi,” says Jack and you can’t help but smile.

“Hi Jack.”

“Uncle Derek is letting me call to say good night.”

“Well, good night. Have you put your pj’s on?”

“Mhmm. Uncle Dave bought me new pj’s.”

“Lucky!”

“They’ve got dinosaurs and they’re sparkly.”

“That’s so cool.”

“It is.”

There’s a soft knock on the door, followed by Aaron’s “you ready for bed, Buddy?”

“Yeah, Dad I’m calling Ammi.” Jack giggles and then— “Dad’s pretending not to look. Why do we have to be in different houses tonight? This is silly.”

“It is silly, isn’t it?” you laugh. “We’ll all be home tomorrow night.”

“Nuh uh, me and Sassy are going to Uncle Dave’s and he’s letting us use the swimming pool.”

“Okay, okay, we’ll all be home day after.”

Emily knocks on the bathroom door lightly and you hum, opening it slightly.

“Can Saskia say good night?” Emily whispers. “She’s in Garcia’s room.”

“Jack-Jack, do you want to say night to Sas?”

“Yes please!” 

So you and Emily smuggle the phone passed JJ and Garcia, to where Saskia’s cocooned herself in Garcia’s bed, surrounded by toys that you’re not sure where they came from. 

Saskia says night to Jack and Aaron, albeit a little rushed because she really wants to watch the pile of movies that Garcia’s put next to her TV. Bless her.

When you and Emily emerge, the monopoly game has turned feral and JJ and Pen are putting it away but they look like they’re still going to destroy each other. And, sure, the night goes downhill when you all start drinking. The most ‘downhill’ as it can when you’re all very aware that Saskia’s in the other room. Emily switches out your drinks for cordial without Pen and JJ knowing, something you’re incredibly grateful for. 

And for some reason she switches out hers as well, you don’t mention it and she doesn’t mention it so you’re good.

JJ starts rambling off months and years and expects all of you to name one thing you were doing that month like you can remember what you were doing in March of 1987 (JJ was helping her Dad with the cows, and Pen was… doing something that was totally illegal). So you just make something up. 

“November, 2002,” JJ says and for the love of God you can’t figure out why she finds this whole thing so entertaining.

“Cueillette de cerises,” Emily says in perfect French. 

“You know you were cherry picking in November, 2002?” you scoff. “Those better be some really good cherries.”

“You don’t remember where you were?” Emily says in the perfect imitation of JJ.

“Wasn’t exactly the best part of my life,” you say, plucking chocolate from the bowl in front of you. “But, uh, I think I was waiting a bar.” You know you were waiting a bar. 

“You worked in a bar?” JJ laughs. “I can’t imagine you working in a bar.”

“I did a fucking good job,” you say, throwing the chocolate in the air and catching it in your mouth. A good job pouring beers and handing out guns. All someone really needs to thrive.

“Was the bar in Pessac?” Emily says, a slight frown creasing her brow.

Yes.

“No,” you answer. Emily hums, nods, and scrunches up her face. 

“How about we try something more recent?” Emily says, but she looks like she’s struggling with something as she grabs and handful of chocolates. 

And so the game continues, with only recent dates used, until JJ and Pen pass out together on the couch. Emily turns off the lights as you go through Garcia’s place, testing the locks. New place, new locks, you’re not sure what Pen’s place is like at all and while you can rationalise that it’s safe, that she’s lived here for a long time, and yet you can’t help checking over and over and over—

“Is this a nightly routine?” Emily asks. She’s leaning up against the wall and you had no idea she was there at all.

“Uh, yeah,” you say sheepishly, checking the door handle one more time.

“Have you ever stayed up and watched the door?” That question, however, is completely genuine and not at all accusing you of anything.

“Yeah,” you admit. “That’s, uh, why we’ve moved the sofa. At least that way I can pretend to get some sleep.”

“Windows?”

You shake your head, knowing exactly what she’s getting at. “Locked every night, I can’t let the kids sleep knowing someone could climb through it.”

“What about summer?”

“Haven’t gotten there yet,” you whisper, and you’re about to play with the door handle again when Emily takes you hand.

“Perfume bottles, they fall any time there’s a movement.”

“Bold of you to assume I own any.”

Emily smirks. “Your apartment is one of the safest places I’ve ever been, and this place is coming up close. They’d be top ten.”

“No offence but that doesn’t make me feel better.”

“No one’s getting passed us. I sleep with a knife, you sleep with a whole fucking amazon warrior hidden inside you. JJ’s pretty scary too, when it comes down to it, and Garcia could kill an unsub just by saying she’s disappointed in them.”

“Yeah.”

“Come on,” Emily says quietly, taking your elbow softly. “Saskia’s safe.”

You nod, following her to where you’ve both made up beds on roll out camper mattresses. You pull the blankets up under your chin and stare at the roof, trying to count the myriad of glow-in-the-dark stars Pen has dotted around her ceiling.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Emily asks as she puts her hands behind her head. She whacks you with her elbow and you make it more dramatic than it was.

“I, uh, haven’t really thought about it. I’m more nervous about Aaron’s Mom coming.”

“I thought you got along with all the Hotchner’s.”

“I do, my Dad however,” you let the rest of the sentence hang in the air. “When I was fifteen Elizabeth told Dad I needed an exorcism. Yada, yada, they’re not really friends.”

“Is Hotch’s brother coming?”

“Sean? I don’t know. He didn’t… uh, didn’t come to Hales’s funeral and Aaron didn’t want him to come to the wedding. I sent him an invitation anyway.”

“Do you think he’ll come?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Do you want him to?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s going to be fun,” Emily offers.

“It’s going to be fun seeing you in that dumb dress,” you laugh.

“I’m so not looking forward to it, but I love you so I’ll soldier through the pain.”

You lie there in silence and then, “hey Em?”

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t mention Pessac again. It’s uh…”

“A blackhole in your file?”

“Yeah.”

“Same,” Emily says, turning onto her shoulder. “I don’t remember seeing you there.”

“Neither.”

“Good. We’re good. We were never in France.”

“And if we remember each other?”

Emily turns to you, smiling in the low light. “We don’t mention it in public unless we want a hit squad to take us out. It would be a real dampener on your wedding.”

“Yes it would.”

You’re mostly asleep when Saskia crawls in next to you, resting her head on your shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, you just listen as her breathing evens out. You kiss her forehead when she starts her little whistling snores.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Screw Canons Birthdays tbh i don't know any physical timeline everythings so inconsistent~~  
> ~~This was funnn.~~  
> ~~wedding SO SOON~~


	32. Chapter 32

“What the hell are you doing here?” Alannah says.

She’s standing in your office doorway, hands on her hips, hair in some elaborate updo that looks far too important for the office.

“Paperwork?” you offer, pointing to the growing pile on the corner of your desk. She looks absolutely appalled. “What?”

“Paper--JUSTIN.” She turns only her body to the bullpen, beckoning him with a single finger. You wonder how many times she’s used that on her siblings. Justin comes up beside her, nose stuck in a file.

“What’s up?”

“Paperwork,” Alannah says simply, pointing at you.

“Oh, no no no no,” Justin says, and he’s coming into your office and scooping up all the paperwork that he really can’t do because he doesn’t have that kind of clearance. “You cannot do paperwork before you get married.”

“The ceremony is a 4, it is currently not 4, I’m doing paperwork,” you respond, taking the top file from the pile as Justin’s taking it away.

“You shouldn’t even be in the office!” Alannah squeaks. “My god! If I’m like this, get me shot.”

“Shot on your wedding day, Lola? Are you crazy?” Justin teases as he squeezes passed her. 

“Are you planning on getting married?” you ask with a frown. Alannah’s never shown any inclination of a partner, let alone marriage.

“Don’t call me Lola,” Alannah says, poking the air at Justin. “And no,” Alannah says, turning back to you. “The only wedding plans I’ve got are yours, and you should not be here.”

“I’ve done this before, it’s… look, I don’t need all day.”

“Nuh uh, up, out, take those friends of yours from upstairs, you might have done this before but you’ve got a bucket load of people who haven’t. Like your daughter, go make this magical for her, go, go, go.” 

She grabs your elbow, presses your bag to your chest, and pushes you out the door. Emily meets you in the antechamber to the elevators with a smirk on her face. 

“I knew you’d be here when you weren’t at Garcia’s.” She hooks her arm in yours and presses the button for the elevator. “And you weren’t at the cemetery. And Saskia was at school, so you weren't dropping her there.”

“God, am I really that predictable?”

“Yes,” Emily says. “It’s not so bad to be predictable.”

“It absolutely is when you’re a federal agent.”

“Fair call.” She checks her watch then puts it under your nose. “If we pick up breakfast we can tell JJ and Garcia that we were just doing the school run and getting food.”

“Are they even going to eat it? They were pretty smashed last night.”

“They’re pretty hung over right now,” Emily smirks. “So, actually, are Rossi and Morgan. Hotch and Reid were sober in solidarity for the fact that Jack promised to be up at 5.”

“He was, indeed, awake at 5,” you smirk. “He’s not going to school today. He texted me ‘GOOD MORNING’ at 5 on the dot. I told Saskia I’d pick her up at recess, she wanted to see her Emily.”

“Us Emily’s are really special,” Emily says, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “Should we hang around until we pick up Saskia then?”

“That’s a long time to be absent.”

“You were going to do it anyway,” Emily accuses as you spill out into the carpark. She digs into your bag and grabs your keys, clicking the lock to find your car.

“You didn’t drive here?”

“Hell no,” she laughs. “I couldn’t guarantee you’d follow me back. Plus, Reid’s made me memorise like every single way to get to work from everyone’s houses. Your place before you moved in with Hotch was the hardest.”

“That was the idea,” you smirk, but it quivers a little. You both let the silence sit there.

“Let’s go do something fun for, what, two hours?”

Emily smacks your butt as she goes to your car, and it’s an effortless response to flip her the bird. 

****

Saskia bounds into administration before you’ve even told the reception that you’re here. She leans on the counter, poking her head into the admin office and says

“My mom’s getting married this afternoon.” She swings her legs up and waves at one of the receptionists. “She’s here to pick me up.”

“I know,” the receptionist smiles. “Congratulations on the wedding.” She slides you the sign out sheet and you sign it off, kissing Saskia’s head.

“Thanks,” you smile and then Sas is wrapping herself around your waist.

“How was Emily?” you asks before she starts rambling about something that could or could not be important. 

“Good, she and her mom are coming and she said maybe her dad is coming too.” 

Emily raises her eyebrow at you and you shake your head.

“Diane and Tobias are on rocky grounds.”

“They’re always breaking up and then they’re together and then they’re not,” Saskia says, huffing dramatically. “Thanks for not being like that with Dad.”

“Never,” you say with a small smile. It’s the only thing you say because if you say anything else Saskia’s sure to repeat it back to her Emily. “I used to work for Emily’s Dad,” you relay to Emily. 

“He works for the FBI?”

You nod. “Yeah. Good cop.”

“If you talk about work, work will find you,” Saskia says, clicking her fingers. “Let’s go! Before work finds you!”

“Who put a sassy thirty-year-old inside your daughter’s body?” 

“I have no idea.”

****

“I will take another picture, I swear to God,” JJ’s saying, wrestling with Emily for the camera as you brush some blush over Saskia’s cheeks. She tried to sit still for the make-up lady JJ hired, but it was too much of strangers touching her face and she didn’t like the way the foundation sat on her face so you’ve wiped it off, given her a dash of something she actually will enjoy.

She side eyes JJ and Emily and you know she’s trying really hard not to shake her head. She’s been told too many times today not to move.

“Why is Auntie JJ taking so many pictures?” Saskia asks. “Cause this is special,” she answers for herself. “Can I get some of that eye stuff too, Mom?” 

“Shadow?” you say, picking out a palette that Garcia’s left for you. 

“Yeah, a pretty colour. And the wand thingy.”

“Sure,” you smile.

Garcia leans over your shoulder and points to a shimmery gold shadow. “That one,” she says. “It’s really cute and it looks good when it’s been rubbed all over your face.”

“Thank-you,” you smile. 

“Anytime.” 

You finish Saskia’s face, blowing slightly on her eyelashes like it’ll dry the mascara quicker. There’s a barely time for an interaction between the two of you before Garcia’s shoving the mirror between the two of you and Saskia’s beaming at her reflection. 

Emily’s lost the battle for the camera with JJ because the shutter starts flooding the room as JJ snaps as many pictures as she can. 

“Mom,” Saskia says with a gasp. “Earrings!” She scarpers off her chair and grabs your toiletries bag, digging around it until she finds your earring box. “The moons! They’ll look pretty.”

She hands you the earrings Sean and Aaron bought you. You kiss her forehead then wipe the lipstick off her forehead, sticking the earrings in before they get lost in the sea of civilian clothes and dresses and shoes and bedsheets that you’ve all somehow messed up even though all you did was have a nap at the same time as Saskia. 

“Knock knock,” someone says and they’re met with “this is a girl’s only room!” as you look up.

“Sean?” you say with a slight gasp, looking at the shaggy-beach-blonde Hotchner brother. He’s got his hands shoved deep in his pockets and he’s really not dressed to go to a wedding.

“Hey,” he says quietly. He’s got dark rings around his eyes, but they’re the kind of rings that are on the way to getting better rather than the other way.

Saskia raises a hand hesitantly, but doesn’t say anything. She’s met him once, when she was younger, and knows him from pictures and the meltdowns Aaron has every other month or so. You pat her hair as you stand, pulling your robe tighter around you as you go out to him.

“Are you coming?” you ask softly, pulling the door closed, away from the prying eyes of JJ and Emily. 

“Uh, no, Aaron doesn’t...” He waves dismissively. “Aaron doesn’t want me here. He made that clear.”

“He’s not going to know,” you smile, rubbing Sean’s arm. “You can hang out the back.”

“J-Jack’s so big, Sas too,” he says quietly, eyes giving you that vacant Hotchner stare where emotion should be.

“That’s what kids do.”

“Yeah.”

“How’s Christopher?”

“We broke up.”

That explains the dark, sleep deprived rings around his eyes.

“I’m still sober,” he says quickly. “I-I wasn’t, for Haley’s funeral, I’m sorry—I missed it, I didn’t mean to I just—”

“Sean,” you say quickly, squeezing his arm. “It’s okay, really.”

“I gave her some flowers this morning.” 

“That’s really all we can do.”

“You’re wearing the earrings,” he says, pointing at them. “I didn’t think you’d still have them.”

“Of course I still have them, they’re my favourite. Stay for the wedding, Sean. It’s okay, I’d love to have you here.”

“Last time I went to your wedding I was carrying the rings,” he smirks. 

“You’re not so little now.”

He shakes his head into this little proud movement and grins. “No I’m not.” He shuffles on his feet. “So you really love Aaron?”

“Yes,” you smile.

“Good. Cause Mom’s out there yelling at the staff about flower placements and corsages and other important wedding things. You might actually hate Aaron by the end of the day.” He raises a hand in the shape of a phone to his ear and says “Yes hello this is Mrs. Hotchner, I’m running late to lay eight dozen eggs because the kitchen is incompetent.” 

“Haven’t missed that.”

“Thank the heavens you haven’t had to go to every Thanksgiving with us.”

“Amen.”

“I’ll uh, go hang somewhere Aaron can’t find me.” 

“Sean, he does want you here.”

“Until you remind him of that, I’ll be sure to keep my distance.” He gives you a quick hug. “Good luck.”

“Thank-you.”

****

“Look at that DRESS,” Garcia gasps as you twirl in your dress, soothing down the skirt. There’s something stuck into the bodice that makes you frown, and you pick at it slightly, pulling our a feather.

You smirk.

Definitely Haley. 

Saskia sees and runs over, shoving it into her hair. “I’m wearing this now.”

“Looks nice, sweet.”

When the girls are distracted looking at a bunch of photos on JJ’s camera you sneak outside onto the balcony, closing the door as softly as you can. 

“Hey you,” you’re greeted by Aaron, who’s leaning on the concrete railing fiddling with his fingers. 

“Hey you,” you smile as he turns to you, smiling at his precious gelled up hair, little bow tie, handsome face suddenly blossoming into something that looks like awe.

“You look beautiful,” he says, standing up as you come to him and wrap your arms around him.

“And you look very handsome.”

Morgan and Spence’s voices float over to you and Aaron takes your hand, the tiniest, most pure, laugh leaving his mouth as you both flee the balcony into the garden and hide behind a rather large tree. You hurriedly bunch up your skirts, trying to pull them into hiding with you, but to be honest there’s no way Morgan and Spence haven’t seen either of you.

Aaron wraps his arms around your shoulders, kissing you quickly.

“How’s your day been?” you ask, hooking your fingers into belt. “This is cute.”

“Fine,” Aaron smirks, eyes falling to your hands. You watch him gulp slightly and you’re smirking right back at him. 

“Mine too.”

“Can you remind me why we’re doing this again?”

“Party?” you offer, but Aaron’s shaking his head. “For the kids. Work and home kids.”

“Ah, yeah, do you think they could have the party without us?”

“Nope.” You grin as he sways you side to side. “Are you getting cold feet, Aaron?”

“No, I just really want to see…” he licks his lips and shakes his head. “See you.”

“You’re just horny,” you tease, poking his stomach lightly.

“Yes,” he responds simply. “I do, but We have a wedding to be the stars of.” He says, repeating the exact words he you told him before going into witness protection. You grab his face in your hands, stroking his face gently.

“I love you.”

“I’d hope so,” he teases. “It would e awkward if we were here and you didn’t.”

You squint at him. “Just tell me you love me.”

“I love you,” he says, pulling you close to him.

“Good, so I told Sean to stay.”

Aaron groans.

“No, no, Aaron, don’t do this. Sean wanted to be here.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“He’s trying.”

“Okay.”

“Aaron, look at me and tell me you won’t make this a big deal.”

He blinks a couple of times then lets his gaze fall to you. “I promise not to make this a big deal. I love you.”

“Your mom’s here too.”

“I know. Your Dad is wrestling her out from controlling the place.” He taps his fingers against your temple lightly. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank-you.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

“Hotch?” Morgan calls. 

“Fuck me,” Aaron groans, pressing his face to your neck. 

“I will later,” you giggle, kissing his ear. “But right now we’ve got to pretend we’re not out here seeing each other.”

“Okay, okay, I never saw you here,” Aaron grins. He lifts his face from your neck and takes your face in his hands and kisses you softly. “Jack’s really excited.”

“So’s Saskia.”

“Hotch!” Morgan calls again.

“Go,” you laugh, pushing him away from your hiding spot.

“I love you,” he says, grabbing you. You screech just a little, trying to keep yourself hidden, but really if Morgan hasn’t figured it out yet he needs his badge taken away from him.

“I love you too.”

“Oi, Hotchner, get out of it,” Morgan yells. Aaron goes a deep red as he backs away from you, fingers lingering against yours as he walks backwards.

“See you on the aisle?”

“I’d better,” you smile, wiggling your fingers in farewell. You watch as Morgan hands Aaron a handkerchief and points at the lipstick stain on his ear.

“Trouble,” Emily says and you jump.

“I didn’t hear you sneak up,” you laugh.

“You were too busy mashing faces with your husband.” She presses a hand to your back and leads you back towards the building. “You sneak off again I’m going to put a protection detail on you.”

“I dare you.”

She smirks and pulls out a thin, red velvet covered box, handing it to you.

“You’re not allowed to cry, but Haley left this for you.”

You nod, opening the box. It’s the necklace you bought Haley for her wedding. A thin silver chain with a pearl pendant. Even from beyond the grave, Haley manages to have great timing. 

“Em? Can you help me put it on?”

She nods, swooping your hair out of the way, and she loops it around your neck. You hold it gently in place, smiling slightly as Emily clasps it in place.

“Thank-you.”

“Yeah,” Emily says, squeezing your shoulder. “Let’s go get you married then, yes?”

“Yes. Let’s get me married.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~ok ok ceremony next chapter i promise~~


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~WEDDING~~

You’ve been saying all day that you’re not nervous.

You’ve been here, gotten married, this is just a formality. But now you’ve all gathered in a smaller garden, away from the ceremony, but right there. Right beyond those hedges, there’s a whole wedding waiting for you. JJ and Penelope are already out there, with Kevin and Will and Henry, you can hear Henry pointing out all the flowers. 

You’ve been pacing, your heels digging into the grass, with Saskia doing jumping jacks of all things. Emily’s just watching the two of you with the dorkiest smile and you know she’s trying not to comment on how similar the two of you look in that exact moment.

“Ammi!” Jack says and he’s running into the little alcove in the cutest little tuxedo. “Wow, you look like a Princess.”

“Thanks Jack,” you smile, dropping to your knees and squeezing his chin. “You’re looking very handsome.”

“Uncle Derek didn’t let dad touch my hair with gel,” he says with the dopiest grin. 

“I can see that.”

“Gramps smuggled me in before I have to go stand with Dad.”

“He did a good job smuggling you in.”

“Hi Saski! That’s a pretty dress. You look like a princess too.”

“That’s a cool suit,” Saskia responds but she’s too full of nerves to stop jumping around.

“Are you ready, Jack?” your dad asks as he comes into the little garden.

“I gotta give Ammi a hug,” Jack says, flinging his arms around your neck and doing his little Jack squeeze. “Daddy’s really nervous.”

“It’s a kind of big day,” you whisper like it’s in solidarity. 

“You’re nervous too,” Jack says as he pulls back. You nod. “You don’t have to be nervous, Daddy already loves you and you already love Daddy. Nothing else matters, that’s why we’re here.”

“That’s a very big boy thing for you to say,” you smile, running your hand through his hair so it sticks up. 

“It’s what Uncle Dave said to Dad.” 

“It’s very true.”

Jack kisses his hand and presses it to your cheek. “I’ve gotta go now.”

“I’ll see you down there very soon.”

“Okay,” Jack smiles and then he runs to Saskia, gives her a hug, and then he runs out to the aisle and you’re pretty sure he does a pretty dramatic wave like he’s part of the royal monarchy.

“Do I have to walk down by myself?” Saskia asks when she finally stops jumping.

“No, you could go down with Emily if you’d like?”

“Can I walk down with you and Grandad?” 

Emily nods at you and smiles. 

“Of course you can, Sweet.”

If the heels didn’t hurt so much, you’d be bouncing on your toes. Instead, you’re squeezing Saskia’s hand as hard as you can without alarming her, and staring at the hedge like you’ll light it on fire. Emily breaks your focus long enough to press the bouquet into your hand. 

“Hey, nothing to worry about,” Emily says like you should be worrying about something. “We’ve got it all under control.”

And then she’s leaving.

“You’re going to be fine,” you dad whispers into your ear as he squeezes your elbow.

“I know,” you respond even though you don’t quite believe it. 

Emily’s pulling faces at Aaron when you step out onto the aisle, grateful for the thin white material someone’s put down the centre. A welcome reprieve to the sinking heels you’ve been struggling in. Emily’s your only bridesmaid left, it’s a little weird not to see Haley standing up there, but there’s still room for her. There’ll always be room for her.

“Ready,” Saskia says. It’s not a question, it’s a statement because then she just starts walking. And bless her, because you might have never moved if she hadn’t.

Aaron turns when Morgan taps his shoulder, and you know he’ll make the excuse that there’s the sun in his eyes, but he’s crying. It’s adorable, and cute, and if anyone’s captured your look at him it’s… well, it’s like someone’s bundled up the sun. 

Jack meets you halfway up the aisle, squishing himself between you and your dad. You only take a couple more steps until you’re letting go of your dad’s arm and picking Jack up. He plays with your necklace and smiles. Maybe he knew it was Haley’s. Maybe he’s just happy to fix your necklace so it sits how he likes it. 

Aaron’s mother, Elizabeth, waves at you. Just a small wave, not above the hip. She’s dressed head to toe in gold, her grey hair dripped in a worn bottle blonde. She probably wants to look more like Sean. It’s working.

Your dad kisses your cheek as you get to the end of the aisle and says something but you don’t hear him. You’re looking at Aaron. He literally looks angelic as he steps to you, takes Jack in his arms, and slides his hand into yours. Emily takes your bouquet before joining the team who all line the front row, Saskia trailing after her. Morgan takes Jack, nodding to you as you squeeze Aaron’s hand.

“Hey,” Aaron whispers as he laces his fingers in yours.

“Hey,” you return, smiling at him. 

Your dad clears his throat, but it’s all in good faith. You’re sure he’s going to bring up that he got his officiant licence only to learn that you’re already married.

“I had a joke planned,” your dad says, his voice carrying over the guests. “About how we’ve already been here in one form or another, although as I now look at everyone here I know that joke would not land. Or, perhaps, the only people who would laugh would be Elizabeth and I.”

You hear Sean snort. Aaron does too. You’re trying hard not to. Not to think back to Elizabeth, drunk at you and Felix’s wedding, laughing far too manically at every joke your dad had said. The punch your dad had blocked from Aaron’s father that sent him stumbling out into the courtyard with the door shut behind him. 

“I do expect you all to be on your best behaviour, I don’t move as quickly as I used to.”

There’s the courtyard joke. Most people laugh to be polite. You give him a polite glare as Aaron shakes his head. 

“Anyway, let’s get this day started. Now, I hope none of you mind when I say this: but it is, indeed, a miracle that we are standing here. I’m not referring to the loss that has been lived these last three years.” He swallows, eyes dancing over the two of you. “I mean that it is a miracle neither of our wedding participants have been called into work on some case.”

“Not for lack of trying!” Alannah yells and there’s a ripple of soft laughter.

“Not for lack of trying,” your dad agrees. “Now, guests, welcome. I know this has been a long time coming, and these fancy outfits have probably been sitting in your closets for far too long. I appreciate you turning up even though your wedding clothes are last season.”

“Dad,” you whine but he grins at you. 

“We can’t continue this ceremony without acknowledging that there’s a significant amount of empty seats where family members would have sat, not that—those of us from Clear River—are starting to notice how different the world is now the Fantastic Four are no longer together.”

Aaron side eyes you at the mention of your school group name, running his thumb over your hand.

“But these two that remain somehow found each other, against all odds.’

“Who’d have thought it,” someone says and a bunch of people laugh. You don’t turn to see who it was.

“Now, I’m going to spoil this wedding for all of you right this second, but Aaron and my daughter have already been here. Not here, but in Vegas. Do not fret, I’m more disappointed in my daughter than anyone seated here. But in preparation for today, I thought I would pull a list.”

You frown at him, but he’s pulling out a piece of what could be a school book page out of his inner pocket.

“Traditionally, here I would list what Y/n likes about Aaron, and vice versa. Instead, I managed to pry some things from Saskia and Jack about the both of you. So we’ll start with Aaron.

“Aaron, Saskia says her mom loves when you stay up too late to make sure she comes home. That you build models passed bedtime, that you laugh at her mom’s jokes even when they’re not funny.” There’s a laughed ‘oof’ that echoes around the crowd. “But most importantly, Sas likes that you stay around when things get tough and let everyone have breakfast for dinner.

“Y/n, Jack says his dad—secretly—loves when you drag him out of the study when he says he’s done working.” Aaron grins at you and kisses your temple. Your dad clears his throat. “He loves when you remind everyone it’s pj time and hold dad’s hand under the table while you play board games. That you finish Star Wars quotes when he starts them, and that you bring blankets onto the couch so we’re all warm and comfy if we fall asleep.”

You turn to Jack at the same time as Aaron, but he’s got his face pressed into Morgan’s shoulder.

“But one thing Jack and Saskia agree on, is that the most special thing the two of you look after each other. Thick and thin, hospital visits and wound packing, you’re there. In the words of Jack, people who take superhero pills together stay together.

“This goes without saying, but the years that come aren’t going to be easy. Although, with the years we’ve just had, they might actually be easier.” You and Aaron both nod. “May your shared future together be the richest years you’ve ever had. You both have a beautiful little family to raise. May your years together be blessed.”

There’s a small commotion as Emily pawns Saskia to Spencer and Dave and Emily try to sneak out quietly. Aaron squeezes your hand.

Everything’s fine, you remind yourself.

Your dad shares a look with Dave, the smallest nod like he’s confirming exactly the same thing with Dave. Everything’s fine.

“Aaron and Y/n requested that they leave their vows until. after the ceremony, to share with Jack and Saskia as well as themselves. I hope you will all respect that decision.”

You and Aaron echo the generic wedding vows, Dave and Emily coming back as the exchange of rings starts. Jack comes up with a tiny black box, one that Aaron opens and smirks, turning it to show you. It’s your Vegas rings.

“I’ll get the proper ones,” Jack says after he’s had a full smile spread over his face. He goes to Morgan, who brandishes the proper rings from his pocket and you squint at him. Your dad smirks at the two of you.

“These wedding rings are the outward and visible declaration of your love, and the bond between the two of you. It unites your hearts.” Here, he winks at Jack, who nods enthusiastically.

“Aaron, as you place this ring on Y/n’s finger, repeat after me…” And Aaron does repeat your father’s following words, looking like he’s going to cry the entire time. “I give you this ring, wear it with love and joy. As this ring has no end, my love is also unending.”

And you repeat exactly the same thing again as you slide Aaron’s onto his finger. God, if you could just kiss him. You could. Maybe.

“Everyone has advice for newlyweds, but many have no idea what to say to those who have been married before. So I’ll tell you what I told Dave at his last wedding. Cherish each other, give full support to your work and personal pursuits, but ensure that you keep each other’s feet on the ground. 

“Love the home and family you have together, what you already have and what you will create. I know everyday you, four, spend together will be filled with moments to celebrate and renew your love. May your life together be a life-long source of excitement, contentment, affection, respect and devotion for one another.”

Aaron bumps your shoulder softly and you smile at him.

“And so, by the power vested in me that I no longer need due to an experience in Vegas, it is my honour and delight to declare the two of your husband and wife. You, finally, may kiss.”

With that Aaron grabs your face softly, pulling you into a kiss. You smile, wrapping your arms around him because, at this point, there is no way to get closer to him. No matter how much you want to. Emily’s hooting from the front row, the only person louder than her is Garcia. 

You both totally miss the introduction of the two of you as a married couple, you’re both far too caught up with each other. He takes your hand when everyone stands, applauding, and thrusts your hands up in the air. Saskia grabs a newspaper cone of roses from the chair behind her and grins at the two of you. She’s been planning something.

Indeed, she was planning something.

As the two of you go down the aisle you’re covered with rose petals and feathers.

“Feathers?” Aaron grins as he presses his forehead to yours, avoiding the onslaught of confetti.

“Be glad you weren’t dress shopping.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Saskia and Jack meet you at the end of the aisle, Jack grabbing your hand and Saskia grabbing Aaron’s. 

“How does it feel to be married with real rings instead of silly ones?” Saskia says with a little quirk in her eyebrow.

“Good,” you smile at Aaron. He grins and kisses you, even when the kids protest. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Really good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~this was fun, we have a couple more chapters of wedding and then i think we'll be done with part 3~~  
> ~~i like ending it on their wedding~~


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~What's this? A new chapter? Yeah.~

There's a cute waiting-meet-relaxation room where Dave set up you and the kids after the ceremony. It's somehow one of the most beautiful, open, rooms you've ever been in but shrouded with privacy. Dave doesn't let either of you speak to him long enough to ask why he and Emily left, he just bundles you all up in the room and kisses each of your cheeks, congratulating you on a (repeat) wedding well done.

Saskia nestles herself at your feet, carefully moving your skirt out the way so she doesn't sit on it. Jack finds the snacks Spence had left on the coffee table and is immediately eating them, careful to keep his crumb-covered fingers off his suit. 

"What's left?" Jack asks as he picks out a cookie and hands it to Saskia. She smiles at him and takes one.

"Vows, photos, dinner and a party," you smile as Jack holds his hand in front of his face and puts his thumb down.

"Ceremony done." 

"Yup." 

Aaron sidles himself into your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Jack hands you a cookie, then Aaron, and then shoves two into his mouth. 

"Is it going to be a late night?" Saskia asks even though you've been over it a thousand times before.

"Yeah," Aaron says and Saskia nods, running her fingers over the wooden top of the coffee table. "But Miss Jareau is going to take you guys and Henry to Dave's around ten if you want to go."

Saskia snorts. "Miss Jareau. It's Aunt JJ."

"Aunt JJ," Aaron corrects himself. 

"Miss Jareau," Saskia repeats again, and a part of her gets mockingly southern that makes you giggle as you glance at Aaron who's getting redder by the second. "Miss Jareau."

"Sassy," you say quietly. 

"Do you call Aunty Emi 'Miss Prentiss' because she'd kick your butt." Saskia grabs another cookie from the bag Jack holds out to her, and plops one in her mouth. "Miss Garcia I can understand but that's because Aunty Pen wears Garcia like a badge of honour. I could call her Aunty Garcia and she wouldn't care." 

She traces a knot on the table then gasps dramatically.

"Does that mean we have to call Spence Mr. Reid and Uncle Derek Mr. Morgan and--" she can't continue because she snorts and starts to choke on cookie crumbs. 

"It does sound silly," Jack confirms. He frowns a little and crawls enough that he can reach her and pats her back lightly.

“Fine, no more ‘miss’ before names,” Aaron grumbles, but he’s got the tiniest smile on his lips. You tap his cheek lightly, making him look at you, then kiss him lightly. He grins into you, pressing up closer until you’re both too aware that the kids are in the room. 

“Gross,” Saskia says but she’s grinning dopily anyway. “Why’d you save your vows for now? Isn’t the whole point of weddings that everyone gets to look at the people getting married and, like, hear all the stuff they wouldn’t tell people normally?”

“Do you mean voyeurism?” Aaron says. “Cause Reid’s been talking about voyeurism for weeks,” he adds, solely for your benefit.

“We saved them because sometimes lots of people don’t need to know what we’re promising to each other,” you explain and Saskia half nods, half shrugs.

“I guess that makes sense,” she says. “Vows are silly. Maybe. Not really, but they’re just things people should already know before they get married.”

“They want you to say them in the presence of your friends and family to keep you—us—accountable,” Aaron says. Saskia frowns then nods.

“Okay.”

Jack brushes his hands off and puts his packet in the bin, followed by Aaron thanking him. He smiles at his dad then climbs into Aaron’s lap and puts his head on his shoulder. Aaron kisses Jack’s head, smiling just a little. 

“So what do you want to promise to us that you couldn’t in front of all the people?” Jack asks. 

“Well,” Aaron says as he lets go of you and picks Jack up, lifting him safely into his lap. “Like Sassy said, vows are usually things that people know before they get married.”

Saskia grabs another bag of cookies and plonks herself on the couch next to you. She rubs her eyes then looks panicked when she pulls her hand away and it’s covered in thin, black lines. It’s an easy enough fix, god bless Garcia for having a mascara that rubs off easy. Garcia swore she was going to throw it out after she’d put it on once, but she’s probably saved your wedding at this point.

“Things can sometimes be a bit funky in marriages that already have children—” Aaron’s only cut off by Saskia snorting.

“Emily’s step-dad makes it worse than funky,” Saskia says and you back hand her knee. You know nothing about Saskia’s Emily’s step-dad, except that your old boss, Fornell, hates his guts and every time you go to the field office you have to drone out his complaints.

“Aaron’s not Emily’s step-dad,” you counter, kissing her cheek lightly and wiping the lipstick left on her cheek away.

“I know,” Saskia says proudly. “We wouldn’t be here if he was.”

You cut her off before she says something snarky and sarcastic and Aaron gives her this… look. You’re not sure what it is, but it’s enough that Saskia draws her fingers over her lips like she’s zipping it shut.

“We just wanted you both to know that, whatever happens, we’re here,” Aaron says, a little quieter than his usual self. “That we love both of you.”

“Forever,” you add. “Even if it doesn’t feel like it because we’ve asked you to clean your room or do the dishes or—”

“Clean the bathroom mirror,” Saskia grumbles and Jack nods in agreement. They’d both had a competition on how hard they could spit toothpaste into the sink and it had ended up bouncing onto the mirror. They’d been more distressed that you’d made them clean the mirror before Aaron came home from a case.

“Or clean the bathroom mirror,” you confirm. 

“Jack and I both know this is a real thing,” Saskia says. “If it wasn’t a real thing you guys wouldn’t have gotten married in secret. And Mom would’ve thrown that ring into some bushes if you talked back to her.” She pokes her tongue out at you and you repeat the gesture.

“Mom wouldn’t have let you stay if it wasn’t true love,” Jack says. “It wouldn’t have worked out if it wasn’t true love.”

“What your Mom and Dad had was true love, too, Jack,” you smile, squeezing his cheeks lightly. 

“I know,” Jack says, squishing his face up. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”

Bless Jack.

“Uncle Dave said we should do our own thing, with rings and stuff,” Saskia says. “He said he’d talk to both of you but I don’t think he did so.” She gets off the couch and digs around a bag that’s an assaulting colour, so it had to have been bought by Garcia, and pulls out two small purple boxes, closed by faded rope. “This one’s for Jack, this one’s for me, and we swap them when it’s important.”

Jack nods. The kind of nod that tells you he knows exactly what they are. He unties his string and opens his box.

“I get Mom’s wedding ring and Saskia gets her engagement ring,” Jack says as he picks up Haley’s wedding ring. It’s on a chain that’s too big for Jack now but it’ll fit by the time he’s ten. “Uncle Dave said we’d like it.”

Aaron bites his lips together, pressing his face to Jack’s hair so neither of the kids can see him. Saskia’s too focussed on hers, organising it in the box so it’s sitting perfectly straight. 

“Do you want me to put it on for you?” you offer and Saskia shakes her head.

“She’s already here,” Saskia says simply, tapping her chest where the amulet perpetually sits. “These are for later.”

“Later?”

“When we’re older,” Saskia explains. 

“This is really special,” you whisper to Sas as she pulls her feet up and tucks herself into you. She nods, closing her box, and holding it on her lap. 

“I know,” Saskia whispers. “Oh, and my buddy, Parker?” He’s a kid a few years below Saskia and he’s been stuck with her in a buddy-system for a year. “His Dad said he owed you a favour, so he got a friend to make this.”

She pulls out an illustration of the five of you: Haley, Aaron, you, Saskia, Jack. It’s in, what would have been, a perfect wedding photo. Obviously one you’d never gotten to take.

“His friend didn’t really make it. We put it all together and stuff, his dad’s friend is Angela and she’s really pretty and she got me to sit down and describe everyone and I think she did a really good job.”

“Seeley Booth,” you laugh, the same way one might say ‘you bastard’. He does, indeed, owe you a favour. The kind of favour that someone repays when you get him a job. He used to work a couple of floors below you and you kind of feel bad about forgetting him until now.

“We’ll have to find a way to thank Parker’s Dad’s friend, then, won’t we?” you smile as you hand the picture to Aaron. He gives a very small smile and he’s blinking back tears, but honestly so are you. 

“Angela works at the Jeffersonian Institute with all the bones,” Saskia says like that means something to you.

“I’ll give Agent Booth some flowers to take with him.”

“Something with sunflowers and purple flowers, that’s what Angela reminded me of.”

Saskia holds out her pinky and you lock yours with hers. “Promise,” you whisper.

“This is really nice, Saskia,” Aaron says thickly at last, putting it in Jack’s lap. Jack runs his finger over Haley’s image.

“I miss Mom,” Jack says and he does the tiniest smile like Aaron always does.

“Me too,” the rest of you echo. It makes Jack smile, like he doesn’t feel so alone. 

“Do we all get to dance together?” Jack asks like the moment’s passed altogether. “At the party.”

“Yeah, we do,” Aaron smiles, rubbing his back. “You think you guys are ready to go out there?”

“I want to go on an adventure first,” Saskia says and she produces a pair of flats and hands it to you. “Aunty Pen and Aunt JJ and I found a pretty river with steppingstones and I think we should go there.”

Aaron nods, wrapping the picture up carefully and placing it down on the coffee table.

“Sounds good, Sassy,” Aaron smiles as he lets Jack down. He takes your hand and presses a soft kiss to your hand. “You good?” he asks quietly.

You nod. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” he says, barely more than a breath. “Let’s go find these steppingstones, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~I have a bunch of uni work to do so updates are getting slower and slower and slower but they're coming i promise!!! love you all xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx~~


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> behold, a rare chapter update.

You and Aaron have done a wedding before. The big bells and jingles kind of wedding. Therefore, you'd both agreed that dinner would be smaller than the ceremony. So there's a handful of people you kept around because their kids are Saskia and Jack's age, then there's family (all of Dad, Elizabeth and Sean), and work because they're more family than anything.

Alannah's playing peek-a-boo with Henry, Justin over her shoulder looking just as shocked as Henry whenever Alannah's face appears which makes Henry laugh. 

Aaron smirks from the window where you're both watching the room from and puts his arm around your waist, kissing your temple. 

"How long have they been together?" Aaron murmurs into your skin. 

"They're not," you say because they're both determined that they're not, but then watching them does make you curious.

Justin's hand hovers by the small of Alannah's back, then lands on her shoulder.

"They're not together yet," Aaron agrees and you frown. "That's the classic 'not together yet' move."

"N'aww I'm so glad we can speculate about my work kids." 

There's a present table even though you both said no presents. There's a vintage birdcage from Gideon, Aaron had invited him but he couldn't come. Even when your Dad drove out to the cabin for a week, all he came back with was a vintage birdcage filled with papercranes. Hundreds of them. There's left over paper for the kids to make a thousand of them. It's cute, adorable, and totally Gideon. You barely remember him, you'd met him a couple of times as a teen, but he'd never made a lasting impression. 

Besides his birds. He'd collected an anthology bird poetry that he'd given you when Rossi had locked you in his office. You've added to it since then because he'd never taken it back.

The birdcage present is one of the most notable presents on the table. 

"Do we have to go in?" You whine and Aaron chuckles, pulling you flush against him.

"Yes," he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. "We do." 

"Okay," you say, but it's barely a breath. There's just something in the closeness of Aaron, his hands pressed against your back pulling you closer and closer and closer and--

"Lovebirds," Dave says from the door. It sounds more like your dad finding out your 16 and MIGHT kiss a boy. "In."

Aaron murmurs something you don't really hear and kisses you slowly and carefully. It makes your knees go weak. 

"Time to go in," he says when the kiss breaks, taking your hand and lacing it in his. 

Everything up until the speeches go by in a blur. Spencer and Saskia do Science Magic over the dance floor. Rossi looks like he's going to have a heart attack but your dad's supplying them with film canisters and aspirin so… yeah. There’s a handful of wedding themed cross words that has Emily bent over one of your highschool friend’s shoulders, asking about a bunch of answers she wouldn’t know the answers to.

Some she should know the answers to. Yup, Emily’s flirting. Props to her.

You'd agreed there wouldn't be many speeches. Just your Dad and Dave, maybe Sean and Elizabeth. But Elizabeth is crowd shy, and Sean is still hiding up the back of the room. Morgan's joined him, you're glad to see they're both drinking pink lemonade out of champagne flutes. Now is not the time for Sean to relapse. Maybe Morgan will pull off the little brother speech with Spencer. They've technically known Aaron the longest. 

Your dad grabs Saskia's orange juice champagne flute and taps his knife lightly against it. The room eventually falls silent. Sean smirks and puts his own flute down. There's nothing good that can happen when the beach-blonde Hotchner smiles at your dad. 

"Now we're all finally gathered together," your dad starts as he grabs a microphone and starts pacing the dance floor. "I would like to address the elephant in the room." 

He looks between Sean and Aaron and your stomach drops. Not now.

But then Sean lifts a torn and tattered Dubbo plushie high above his head until it sits on a shelf above him. 

"Is that--" you and Aaron say in sync. You're pretty sure it's the same Dumbo Sean had taken to your first wedding and not let go of, with your Dad pulling off the same joke. 

Your dad doesn't nod. He just finishes the joke by thanking Dumbo for attending. Even Saskia and Jack laugh. 

"Some of us have been here before," your Dad says and he motions to Elizabeth. "Different circumstances, sure, but we've seen this play out. I’m not sure any of us expected it to end up here, though."

There’s a small pause as Henry runs in front of your dad with his cup clutched in his hands. He pauses for a moment when his feet move too fast for his body, then he keeps going to hand Alannah a handful of biscuits that JJ had in her clutch. Alannah thanks him quietly and pulls him up on her lap, helping him organise his biscuits in size order.

You’re not quite listening as he starts an anecdote about highschool or something because Aaron puts his hand on your thigh and you’re too distracted by the way his hand keeps wondering to places it shouldn’t be. Not that you entirely mind. 

The speech starts to get out of hand and you realise that maybe--maybe--your dad’s had too much to drink. Not that anyone really notices, no one other than Dave and Elizabeth. Dave tries to dive in to save the speech, but it’s ultimately Elizabeth in her head to toe golden outfit as she presses her ring adorned hand to your father’s shoulder and whispers;

“Just tell them that you’re happy,” into his ear. And he does. Then he adds that Elizabeth too is happy, and Elizabeth gives a curt nod but there’s a smile there. A smile you had once worked so hard to get out of her, and here she was giving it to you freely. 

There’s a couple more speeches (Elizabeth’s is short, sweet, but she means every word of it), Morgan and Emily time their speech to work together and you’re not even sure how they’ve done it but it’s pretty fascinating to watch. Aaron presses his face into your neck when Emily and Morgan start “arguing” about when they knew their boss was in love. 

He murmurs something into your neck and you can feel his face heating. There’s a collective ‘awwww’s’ from the team and a couple of other people. There’s an audible sigh of relief from Aaron when the speeches are over. He’s somehow migrated closer to you. It’s probably the only time the two of you are going to get away with sitting this close to each other. 

Morgan lifts Jack onto his shoulders and takes Saskia’s hand when the music starts, Garcia running to join them and totally tearing up the dance floor. Aaron slips you a pair of flats and grins at you. It’s only involuntary that you cup his face and kiss him softly.

“Thank-you,” you whisper.

“For what?” he frowns as you kick your heels off and shove them under the table, replacing them with the flats. 

“Letting Sean stay,” you say with a shrug. “And for marrying me.”

“Didn’t have a choice,” he says with the slightest smirk. “I knew I had to marry you after New York. There was no other way to go.”

You smile, blinking away the tears that threaten to fall. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He pulls you into him, hand pressed at the back of your head as he hugs you to his shoulder. He presses his face into your shoulder, leaving a light kiss there. You both sway slightly where you’re seated, carding your fingers through his hair softly.

“Dance with me,” he says at last, standing and offering his hand. 

“This is hardly that kind of dancing music,” you tease him as he pulls you to your feet. 

“I didn’t say here,” Aaron says and he tilts his head in the direction of the doors leading out into the garden. Ultimately it’s the tiny little tug he does on your hand that has you following him out into the night air. 

The music filters out into the garden, but it’s background noise to the wind rustling at the leaves, and the small water fountain that’s rotating it’s water around. Aaron pulls you close to him, hand on your waist. He pulls you close to him, until you’re body to body with him.

Twirling around in the starlight, oblivious to the guests that gather by the doors every now and then to watch the two of you.

“Haley always said you like to dance,” you murmur into his ear as he pulls you closer, swaying from side to side. 

He nods, squeezing you just for a second.

“Aaron, don’t take this the wrong way,” you say as he lets go of you to twirl you. “But this is absolutely the last time I’m going to marry you. We’re not doing this again.”

“Not taken the wrong way,” Aaron chuckles as he tugs you back to him. “This is absolutely the last time I’m going to marry you too.”

“It was a very nice wedding, though,” you assure him.

He cups your cheek, running his fingers lightly over your temples. “You already know this, I think, but from here on in we do everything together.”

“We already do everything together, Aaron,” you laugh, but there’s a seriousness in his eyes.

“You tell me if I’m going too far,” Aaron continues. “And I’ll tell you the same.” He doesn’t quite look at you as he says it, opting instead to press his forehead to yours.

“Too far?” you prompt.

“I’ll pull you out of your dark place if you pull me out of mine,” he says, barely a whisper. 

“Always,” you respond. “I’ll keep you grounded if you keep me grounded.”

“Everyday,” he breathes, nuzzling against your cheek. “Tell me if I ever go too far with the kids.”

“You’re too soft with the kids,” you chuckle, twirling his hair between your fingers. “I’ll tell you if you need to go harder on them.”

“I’ll tell you if you go too far then,” he grins. 

“Perfect,” you smile. He hums and leans into your hand. His eyes flutter open for a moment, landing on your eyes with this little blissed out smile. “What?” you laugh softly.

“Can I ask you to promise something?” he says softly, swaying the two of you.

“Anything.”

“Promise you’ll never stop making me feel like the luckiest man in the world.” 

“I promise,” you smile as he cups your face and kisses you, tongue brushing against your lower lip. You don’t even try to muffle the moan that escapes as he deepens the kiss. 

“We have to go back in,” he says as he pulls back.

“No we don’t,” you whine. Aaron nods against you.

“We do.”

“We have to say ‘night to Saskia and Jack, that’s it.” 

“They’re staying with Dave,” Aaron says like he’s reminding himself. You can feel his heartbeat quicken beneath your fingers.

“They’re safe,” you whisper. 

“I know, I know,” he breathes. “I know.”

“We can pick them up tomorrow.”

He nods and loops his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him. 

“One more dance and we’ll go back in.”

****

“I need to borrow you for a dance,” Sean says as you come back in, extending his hand to you. “I took my shoes off.”

When you married Felix, Sean had only just been older than Jack. He had insisted on dancing with you, because you were Aaron’s ‘cool’ friend. He kept stepping on your toes because he was, well, a kid. 

“I think Aaron can spare me,” you smile, but he’s a little hesitant to let your hand go. “Aaron can spare me,” you repeat with a small smile. Emily grasps onto his arm and tugs him away with a small wink in your direction.

Sean’s still as clumsy as ever, you’re chuckling before he’s even got his feet in the right direction.

“I’d tell you to step on my feet but I think you’d actually crush them this time,” you laugh, pulling your foot quickly away before he steps on it. “Take a breath, forget your feet.”

“If I forget my feet I’ll be hobbling around on stumps.”

“Ha ha. That’s it, there, you’ve got it.”

“Only you could make that not sound patronising.”

“You’re doing better than the last time we danced together.”

“You carried me for half of that.”

“I don’t have to carry you this time.”

“That’s because I’m a big boy now.”

“Ow.”

“Sorry.” Sean chuckles and he maneuvers his body enough that he won’t step on your toes again. “Look after my brother.”

“Always. You look after yourself. Where’re you headed?”

“Back to New York,” he says, not quite looking at you. 

“And do you like New York?”

“Enough.” 

“Okay.” 

Jack tugs on your skirt and Sean laughs, just a little.

“You’re a popular lady with all the Hotchner boys,” Sean teases.

“I was not popular with your father,” you correct, scooping Jack up into your arms. “Hey buddy.”

“Hi,” he says with a chubby cheeked smile.

“I should head home,” Sean says. 

“Where’s home?”

“New York.”

“Wait until morning to go, I can get you a hotel.”

“It’s your wedding,” Sean says, rubbing your shoulder. “I’ll get myself home.” He rubs the back of his finger against Jack’s cheek lightly. “I’m okay.”

“Text me when you get into a hotel room,” you say as Sean steps away smiling.

“Always worrying about everyone else,” Sean chuckles, kissing your cheek lightly. 

“I will call you if you haven’t text by midnight.”

He groans and shakes his head. “I don’t doubt it.” 

“Say bye to Aaron.”

But he just gives you the quickest wave and heads out the door. 

“You promised a dance,” Jack says happily.

“I did, didn’t I?” you grin, twirling him until he giggles. 

“What happened to uncle Sean?”

“He’s heading home.”

“Okay.” Jack shakes his head happily. “Spin again it makes your dress go sparkly.” 

And so you do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sexy smexy times next chapter with probably some more fam stuff.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~family time, sexy times~

Saskia’s got you, Jack and Aaron in some warped circle dance. You’re going around and around and around in circles, until Saskia decides she’s tired and slumps herself into your arms. She’s filled her little clutch from Garcia with rose petals, they keep falling out over your shoes. 

“Are you tired, little miss?” you whisper, patting her hair down. She nods against you, tightening her arms until she’s in a bone crushing hug. Aaron smirks at you, Jack’s clutched in his arms having finally hit his breaking point and he’s teetering on the edge of hyperactivity. Dave’s too busy twirling Elizabeth (who, admittedly, looks too gleeful) to pull him away.

“I think we could possibly sneak them upstairs,” Aaron whispers, nodding his thanks to a couple who give their well wishes. 

Usually, you’d be able to get away with having the team distract everyone, but you’re not sure that you’d get away with that this time. It’s Alannah who notices, giving a small smile in your direction then she dramatically slips as she leans up against a table and everyone looks in her direction.

Both of you take the distraction to whisk the kids out of the room, closing the doors behind the two of you quietly. Saskia yawns into the back of her hand and rubs her eyes, making her look like a racoon. She’s too cute to actually care.

Jack’s asleep before Aaron gets the hotel door open, you’re barely able to get Saskia into the bathroom with the amount of yawning she’s doing. Aaron grabs a blanket off the bed, beckoning you over to him. He wraps it around your shoulders, tying it off the best he can.

“We already look ridiculous, might as well be comfortable,” he says, kissing you softly. “Are you okay here if I go grab Jack’s pj’s?”

“Yeah,” you smile into him, kissing him once more. ‘ ‘course.”

“I’ll be back.” 

When Saskia comes out the bathroom she’s dressed in the fluffiest set of pyjamas you think you’ve ever seen. Very pink, very fluffy, very much a present from Garcia. Her hair sticks up at some very uncontrollable angles. She looks far too tired.

“Ready for bed?” you smile and she nods, sinking down into the second bed in the room. She plays around with the sheets for a bit, trying to pull the blankets back until they’re at least a little bit comfortable to get under.

She gasps like she’s forgotten something and launches off the bed, running to her bag and pulling out Haley’s bear. Somehow she’s shoved that massive thing in a go-bag that would have hardly fit your clothes if you went on a case longer than two days.

“He gets lonely,” Saskia says. She’s not talking about Jack, she’s literally talking about the bear.

“Okay,” you laugh lightly, tucking her in. Jack sniffles in his sleep, tossing on the top of his sheets. He’s still in his tiny little suit jacket but Aaron’s somehow wrestled his tie off. You kiss Saskia’s forehead as she shuffles herself further into the blankets. 

You lean over and push Jack back into the middle of the bed before he rolls himself off, then maneuver him out of his jacket. He murmurs something nonsensical and you think you hear something about Spiderman. Really, at this point, there’s no point getting him into his pj’s. 

So you tuck him in, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He does the tiniest little smile that he always does in his sleep and nuzzles against your hand before he’s falling completely back asleep once more.

“Today was good,” Saskia says as you stand and try to pull your skirts up with you.

“It was a good day,” you confirm, perching on the edge of her bed. 

She nods, and nods, and nods, and she’s trying desperately hard to keep her eyes open. She gives you a small smile then she nestles into the pillow and you can watch as her body relaxes, drifting off to sleep. 

“Hey,” Aaron chuckles softly, putting Jack’s pj’s on the end of his bed. “Looks like I was too slow.”

“Yes you were,” you smile as Aaron wraps his arm around your shoulders. “They’re both asleep.”

“Our parents are coming up to watch them.”

“Thanks.”

“You know what we don’t have to do?” Aaron murmurs, pressing his nose into your hair. He’s surely hinting that you don’t have to go back down to the reception.

“We do still have to go down,” you groan softly. “There’s still cake.”

“Since when has anyone actually enjoyed wedding cake?”

“I liked my wedding cake,” you defend. 

“You baked your own wedding cake,” Aaron chuckles. “This time, it’s rich people cake because we both have jobs.”

“This is true,” you smile. “So we don’t have to go back?”

“Someone else can cut the cake. My bets are on Emily and JJ.” 

You tilt your chin up, smiling at Aaron as he cups your cheek. He’s got the softest way of looking at you, like you’re his whole world. 

It probably would have held forever if Elizabeth and your dad didn’t knock lightly and slink into the room like they’re about to get in trouble. Maybe Elizabeth’s had a bit too much to drink because she makes some sort of cooing sound and pushes herself between the two of you to squish your face between her hands.

“Look after yourself,” she says in complete earnest. Aaron rolls his eyes in a very dramatic ‘I’m-embarassed-by-my-mother’ way and steps away, stumbling as your dad pulls him aside. 

“I will,” you assure her. “And I’ll look after Aaron.”

She shakes her head. “Aaron, he’s stubborn. Like his father. Nothing will kill him unless he gives it permission. Which means you have to be very aware of where your limits are.” Very profound for someone who’s definitely drunk too much.

“I’ll remember that, promise.” 

“Good, good,” she whispers. She presses a kiss to each cheek then hugs you tight. You raise an eyebrow at Aaron who lets you suffer for a handful of seconds then he comes over and peels his Mom off you.

“Mom, Mom,” Aaron says softly. “We’ll look after each other, come on.” 

Your dad produces a pack of cards like he’s a magician and taps the packet as he places it on the table. It’s like a magnet for Elizabeth, she immediately lets you go and pulls up a chair, shuffling the cards.

“Go have fun,” your dad smiles. “We’ve got this handled.”

You untie your blanket cape and drape it over Jack’s bed, Aaron draping one over Saskia’s. 

“We owe you both,” you say as Aaron takes your hand. 

“Go, I have to beat you father,” Elizabeth says, waving you both off.

****

“I can’t get this off,” you half-laugh-half-cry, trying to loosen the bodice on the dress. Aaron chuckles, coming into the bathroom. He’s fiddling with his cufflinks, but otherwise he looks far more comfortable than you do.

“It looks beautiful,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his face into your neck, peppering kisses over the soft skin.

“But I can’t have fun in it and you look ravishing,” you grin at Aaron in the mirror. He hums something into your neck as you pull your earrings off. 

“I could make you have fun with it still on,” he offers, resting his head on your shoulder and watching your reflection carefully. 

“I’m sure you could but I want out of this death trap.”

“It’s a sexy death trap.”

“Still a death trap.”

He nods, pulling back from you despite your whine of protest. He traces his fingertips lightly over your exposed skin. His eyes soften, then he’s kissing the back of your neck, hands working to magically free you of your dress. He kisses down your spine, kisses following his fingers, eliciting a small gasp of satisfaction as he manages to finally loosen the dress, a kiss falling to your lower back.

“That better?” he murmurs.

You nod, letting the rest of your dress fall to the floor and pool at your feet. 

“You look incredible,” he says, a little breathless, as he joins you once more. 

“And you look overdressed,” you rebuttal. “But pretty handsome.”

“I’m pretty handsome,” he agrees, mouthing at your neck. 

And sure, you give into it, leaning back into him as he runs his hands down your sides, pulling you up against him. 

“You’re eager,” you murmur, rubbing up against him. He groans into you, hands stuttering over your body.

“Yeah,” he finally says and he rocks you out of the bathroom, because walking is too much work apparently. He sweeps the towels off the bed, landing to the floor with a soft thud.

“Aw, they’re cute,” you say as Aaron pushes you down on the bed. “Swans.”

“I don’t care what the towels look like,” Aaron says, his voice so low it’s nothing more than a growl. “These are really nice.” He runs a finger over your lace panty set and you roll your eyes.

Of course it’s nice.

It’s your wedding.

You pull at his shirt, fiddling with the buttons, as he crawls on top of you, sucking at the soft tissue of your breast. His hands find their way down your body as you finally pull his shirt buttons free.

“Arms, Aaron,” you say, twisting beneath him so you can push his shirt off his shoulders and free him from at least one of his layers. He grunts something, you’re not quite sure what, then he’s trying to find the clasp on your bra.

“It’s front clasp, Aar,” you say softly, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down, exposing a pair of spiderman boxers. “These are cute.”

“Jack and Morgan said they were for good luck.”

“Well, they’re about to get you laid.”

He unlatches your bra, lets it drop to the bed beneath you, and takes a breast in his mouth, his hand playing at your other breast. There’s something about the way he looks that’s almost ethereal, of course it is. You’re lost for a moment, watching him kiss down your body. How his hands land on your hips, squeezing, then he nudges the crotch of your panties out the way.

“You’re so wet,” he says like it’s not an obvious observation, running his finger between your lips. He stops just before your clit, instead pressing an open mouthed kiss to your inner thigh. 

“Aar,” you murmur, head falling back against the duvet. “Please don’t tease.”

“I would never,” Aaron says, close enough that you can feel your breath over you. “Nice of you to use your manners.”

“I will bite you.”

“Like to see you try,” he grins, and then his mouth is on you before you can respond. 

There are no more thoughts, nothing on your lips but Aaron’s name, hands tangled in his hair, until you’re completely lost in some sort of euphoric existence that Aaron cuts short before you’re in complete orgasmic haze.

“Aar,” you whine as all contact leaves you. 

He crashes into your mouth with one of the most desperate and passionate kisses you’ve had in a long time. 

“What’s--this--for?” you ask between kisses, hooking a leg over his. 

“I love you,” he responds, like it answers your question. It does. He sucks at your lower lip, pushing you up the bed with him until you’re both practically buried in the excessive amounts of pillows.

“I love you too,” you murmur into his lips. “But the love-o-meters going down the longer I go without any sort of satisfaction.”

“Understood,” he chuckles against you. He latches onto your neck, pulling your panties off and throwing them away from the bed.

“Take me someplace I don’t have to think,” you whisper against him.

“Always,” he says into your neck, vibrating the soft skin.

He lines himself up with you, pressing his forehead to yours. You nod when he asks you if you’re okay, all with his eyes. He sinks into you slowly, watching you carefully as he always does. 

“Shit,” you moan against him. 

He rests there for a moment, mouth pressed to your forehead. 

“Good?” he murmurs, hand absentmindedly stroking at the crescent scar over your hip. You nod slowly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” 

He starts slow, but then it turns to something primal that you know Aaron’s always had in him, but it feels… incredible. He braces himself against the headboard, his other hand slipping between the two of you when his brow does that thing where he realises that he’s gone too hard, too fast.

You grab his face, squeezing his cheeks until he looks down at you and captures you in a thousand kisses. 

“‘m close,” you gasp between kisses. “Fuck.”

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Okay.”

Your orgasm hits you like a truck, completely taking you away from the world. When you come back Aaron’s breathing heavily into your shoulder, hands braced against the mattress. 

“You got loud,” Aaron laughs against your shoulder. 

“There’s no one to wake up,” you respond, linking your hands behind his back. “You did too, it was nice.”

“Yeah,” Aaron sighs, pulling out and collapsing next to you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I know.” He says, rolling to put his arm over you. His wedding band catches your eye as he squeezes you close to him.

“This is hot,” you smile, picking up his hand and holding it up to look at it.

“It’s all yours. Look.” He pulls it off, showing you the inside. Your and Aaron’s names are engraved inside, with a little heart at the end of both names.

“That’s gorgeous.”

“It’s our wedding present from Dave,” Aaron smiles. “I told the team we just needed small and sentimental things, not cutlery sets and waffle irons.”

“Thank-you.”

“Yeah.” He traces a finger down your temple. “Do you want a bath?”

“That would be amazing.”

****

Aaron swishes the water, catching the soap rose petals on his finger and inspecting them. You’re curled against his chest, tracing his scars from Foyet lightly. He hasn’t shied away from your touches, so there’s that.

“What did Mom say to you?” Aaron whispers, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“She said you’re stubborn, and I need to look after myself before I look after you.”

Aaron chuckles and takes your hand, stopping your tracing of his scars. 

“That’s the same thing your dad said to me about you.”

“Surprise, our parents know us.”

“I’m surprised Mom even made it. She never responded to the invitation.”

“I think Dad picked her up. He had that Clearriver look about him.”

“He did, didn’t he.” Aaron nuzzles his nose into your hair. “I promise not to be as stubborn as my dad.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It was implied, Mom only ever called Dad stubborn. I was ‘entitled’ or ‘passionate’.”

“In that case, I’m… I’ll promise not to be my mom. I don’t remember a lot of her but--”

“Your Mom seemed like fun.”

“I promise not to fake my death and leave you with Sas and Jack,” you clarify. Aaron presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“I like that promise.”

“Me too.” You tilt your head up to look at him. “Today was nice. Thank you.”

“I missed you last night. It was weird, knowing that we were in the same city but we weren’t… together.”

“Yeah,” you say softly, kissing his jaw. “I missed you too.”

“Jack said you were nervous at the ceremony,” Aaron teases, squeezing your legs between his.

“You cried,” you return.

“Yeah. I did. Because you’re beautiful.”

“Cute,” you giggle. “You’re pretty handsome yourself.” 

“I’m glad you came home.” It’s surprisingly genuine, and you’re left to wonder where his mind has gone to.

“Aar? I’ll always come home.”

Aaron nods, kissing you softly. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we've got 2(ish) more chapters to go and then we're being birthed into part four my dudes~


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soft and smutty ~ my new catchphrase for 2021

You wake to Aaron kissing your shoulders softly, hands stroking your hips. You let him continue for a little bit without telling him you're awake because he has this… softness about him when he doesn't think you're awake. 

"Morning," you sigh as Aaron runs his thumb over your shoulder. He makes this little surprised noise and presses a kiss to your neck.

"Morning beautiful," he says softly. "Did I wake you?" 

"Mhmm it was nice." You turn to him and kiss his nose. "Don't stop." 

"Yes Ma'am," Aaron says softly. 

He pushes you gently onto your front, running his hands over your back, kisses following where his hands were. He rubs the heel of his hand over your shoulders, you can practically hear him grin when you moan. He pushes your hair aside, kissing the nape of your neck. 

He works down the rest of your body, working at the tenser parts. Not exactly what you imagined you'd be waking up to but it's also… very Aaron.

"Hey," he murmurs, turning you on your back. You smile at him, kissing him softly and trying to ignore morning breath. 

"Hey you," you respond breathlessly. 

"We have a couple of hours until breakfast," he whispers, kissing your neck. 

"Yeah," you breathe, arching into him. "No cases, no kids," you add, which is evident by the fact that neither of you put your pj's on last night. 

Aaron pulls you completely up to him, kissing you passionately as he rolls the two of you until you're straddling him. 

"No cases, no kids," he agrees, hands squeezing your hips. 

He looks so happy, framed by the grey pillow cases, eyes wide and full of adoration. He licks his lips quickly, and there's that look again. It's just… perfect. 

"You look gorgeous," you tell him, leaning down to kiss him. He arches up into you, moaning softly into your mouth. “Mmm, sound gorgeous too,” you tease, running your hands through his hair. 

“Yeah,” he breathes between kisses, eyes fluttering, barely staying open. “Yeah.”

He might have had something meaningful to say other than 'yeah', but he’s completely lost his train of thought. It’s cute. He falls back against the pillows as you let him go, tracing your hands down his chest. Thumbs trace over his scars, dropping kisses to the raised skin softly. He half whimpers, half moans, and you whisper meaningless words against his skin. It calms him. It always does.

“You’re gorgeous,” you murmur, tracing the back of your finger over his chest. Aaron’s cheeks go a deep red and he chuckles, if only because you don’t think he’s got the ability to form anything coherent. 

Your finger brushes against a scar that Aaron actually seems to have feeling near, his eyes flying open.

“Sorry,” you murmur, spreading your palm over the scar instead of tracing it. “It’s just me.”

“I know,” he sighs, nodding methodically. “I know.”

You watch him until his jaw relaxes, his hands stroking at your hips. You kiss him softly, deepening it only when he lets you. 

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips and he loops his arms around your neck, holding you close to him. He whispers it back, through soft kisses.

“I need you,” he whines, and it’s only then that you realise he’s been rutting against your leg. You have to bite your cheek to stop from giggling at him, the way he almost looks guilty beneath you. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, kissing the hollow of his neck. “You do.”

You think about teasing him. You slide up his member slowly, listening to the way he whimpers beneath you. Gorgeous, adorable, and won’t hold out for long enough for both of you to have fun.

So you line yourself up with him, one hand braced on his chest as you lower yourself onto him. He moans beneath you, completely losing himself for a moment. You close your eyes, giving yourself the same luxury, then circle your clit softly as you rise and fall softly on top of him.

Aaron’s breath keeps catching, it’s this cute little thing he’s always guilty of like he’s trying to control himself and keep quiet but he just can’t. You bend down to nip at his shoulder and --god-- does it feel right. The moan you accidentally let out seems to give permission to Aaron, who suddenly gets far louder than you’d given him credit for.

He grabs your waist softly, moaning into your ear until his fingers squeezes your hips so hard you’re sure he’s going to leave little crescent shaped marks. 

“Shit,” he moans into your shoulder, sinking his teeth in like it’ll silence him, but god does it make him louder. 

“Aaron,” you gasp, legs threatening to turn into jelly. 

“Mmm?” he says into your neck and nips at the skin playfully. 

“I’m… close…” you manage between gasps, rivalled only by the string of curses that roll out of your mouth and you drop your face to his chest. 

“You’re not done yet, Baby,” Aaron moans into your ear. Which would have been an astute observation if he didn’t work you completely to your orgasm and then beyond it, to the point where you’re no longer in a post-orgasmic haze but in something that feels way beyond it.

When he finally comes, he’s left you in an overstimulated, blissful, haze that has him pulling you into his chest that’s glistened with sweat.

He strokes your hair while you still try to regain function in your limbs, albeit unsuccessfully. He nuzzles into your cheek, peppering soft kisses over your shoulder.

“You okay?” he murmurs, probably only when, he too, has regained some sort of knowledge about the world. 

“Incredible, yeah,” you breathe into his neck. “Probably should have used a condom, though.” You feel him frown beneath you. “I’m going to ruin these sheets.”

“This is a honeymoon suite, Babe, they’ve had thousands of ruined sheets.”

“But they’re so nice.”

He chuckles, lifting you off him and tucking you into your side. You squeeze your legs together as Aaron reaches out for his watch and phone.

“I don’t want to go to breakfast,” you whine, batting at his arm like he’ll drop the phone and watch. “I want to stay here. Forever.”

“Mmm, fifteen minutes, maybe. That’s the longest forever we’ve got.”

“Don’t move for five of them, I’m comfy. Thirsty, but comfy. Then a ten minute shower because I will kill the team if they say anything at breakfast.”

Aaron kisses your forehead and lets the watch and phone drop to the bed. “Deal.”

****

“Here’s the happy couple!” Morgan calls as you both try to, unsuccessfully, sneak into the dining hall. Jack launches himself off his chair, hashbrown half hanging out his mouth, and launches himself at Aaron who only just manages to catch him. Saskia leans back on her chair, waving manically. 

“Hi,” you sing-song, coming up behind Saskia and pressing a kiss to her hair. “What’re you doing?”

“I was building a house of cards but Grandad’s gone to take Gran home so he had to take the cards. Jack and I were trying to make them out of hashbrowns but it was hard.”

“Grandad’s already gone home?”

“Mhmm. Gran wasn’t feeling well and Uncle Sean’s bike broke down. I don’t think the two events are connected.”

“Two events?” you laugh, grabbing food off her plate.

“Mom there’s, like, a whole line of food over there,” Saskia protests.

“But your plate is the best one here.”

“When you get your own plate can you replace it?” 

“Yes I can.”

Like he knows exactly what you want, Aaron hands you a plate and replaces the food you stole from Saskia’s plate. Jack slides between the two of you, sitting up next to Saskia and trying to stack her hashbrowns into a house again. Morgan whistles you both over to the team, kicking the chair next to him out. Emily groans and puts her head on the table, a reaction mirrored by JJ and Garcia.

“Did some people have a bit too much to drink?” you tease as you sit, Aaron leaving a lingering touch to your shoulder until he sits too.

“These girls can’t hold their liquor,” Morgan teases. 

“Don’t I know it,” you smile and Aaron chuckles into his toast. 

Morgan watches him intently, he thinks you aren’t watching the way his eyebrows furrowed together then his whole face relaxes and he lets himself smile with Hotch. 

“So where are the two of you headed for the… three day honeymoon? Is that really all Hotch can handle?” Morgan grins lopsidedly. 

“Three days,” you agree. “And, really, it’s all I can handle.” The way Morgan chokes on his breakfast is all the entertainment you need. Aaron squeezes your knee and says nothing.

“I have no idea where we’re going,” you confess. “All Aaron’s planning.”

“Somewhere no one’s going to find,” Aaron says, he spears a couple of garlic butter mushrooms off your plate. “No team, no unsubs, no cases.”

“But we can call the kids,” you add, nudging him. 

“Yeah, we can call the kids,” Aaron reassures you, kissing your temple softly. “If there are any cases, I don’t want to hear about it.” 

“What about your team, have you called them off?” Morgan asks you.

“Yeah. They’re all still on field probation, I’ve got nothing to worry about unless someone starts making crop circles on federal land, and I’m sure Shakespeare can handle that.” 

“I’d hope so,” Morgan smirks.

“Mmmm, I have something for the both of you before you leave,” Emily says, pointing at you and Aaron. “Don’t leave without it.”

“Ohhh, really don’t,” JJ scoffs. You think there’s a little sliver of jealousy beneath the surface. Playful kind of jealousy.

“Okay,” you laugh with a raised eyebrow. “I trust it’s something good.”

“Oh, it’s good,” JJ laughs before Emily backhands her. 

“I’ll trust you both,” you say softly and Aaron places his hand on your back, switching out some of the stuff on his plate for some of yours. 

Jack and Saskia are too excited about a four day holiday at Dave’s to care too much when you both say goodbye, Jack hanging off Saskia’s back and looping himself around in what could be a piggy back but he’s also very small and distracted so it’s more like a chokehold on Saskia while she holds onto his ankles.

“We’ll see you on the weekend!” Saskia yells as Dave opens the door to a car that looks like you’ll get in trouble if the kids do anything to it.

“I’ll look after them,” Dave says as he shuts the door.

You don’t doubt it.

By the time you get back it’ll probably be Jack and Saskia looking after Dave.

Emily hands you a present bag once the kids are out of sight.

“Don’t open it around Hotch, but it’s for the two of you, okay? Works better as a surprise,” she says.

“Is it a dainty little diamond encrusted gun? Because I don’t get the insurance payout for a couple of years.”

“Nuh, uh, new rule, no killing your husband,” Aaron says, kissing the back of your neck as he joins the two of you. “One was enough,” he whispers so low even Emily doesn’t hear him.

“No killing my husband,” you agree, sighing heavily. “Shame, though, could have been fun.”

“Get in the car or I’ll run you over with it,” Aaron laughs, pushing you towards the car and waving to the team. Spencer’s supplied the passenger’s seat with a bunch of word puzzles that you know you definitely won’t have time for.

“So where are we going?” you ask Aaron as he does his seatbelt up and twirls the keys around his finger.

“That is a secret. But you also know exactly where it is.” He gives you a smile that makes your stomach flutter and you grin back at him.

By the look in his eye, it’s going to be amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honey moon time biatches


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~I've finally UPDATED and HEY there's some smut~

"We're here," Aaron says softly, brushing your cheek lightly with the back of his finger. 

You yawn and rub at your eyes, inching them open to wherever "here" is. 

You seem to be in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees, with a log cabin and you suddenly know exactly where you are.

"Is this where… after the case in Lower Canaan? Angel Maker? When you hurt your ear? Aaron, this is where we first had sex." 

Aaron gives you the tiniest grin.

"Yeah. You said you wanted to be close enough to home if anything happened with the kids, far enough away work won’t call us in, and this is in that spot.”

“You, Aaron, are a romantic at heart." 

"And you look exhausted. You slept almost the whole way here."

You glare at him. "You kept me up most of last night," you tease. 

"Mmmm, might do it again too."

"Please." 

Aaron just chuckles and kisses your cheek, pops his door open and climbs out the car and grabs your bags from the boot. 

He throws the bags down on the bed, watching them bounce, and you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades. 

He presses his hand to yours, the cold wedding band pressed into your skin. 

"We have three days without kids, what do you want to do?" you murmur against his back. 

"That's a silly question," Aaron teases, twisting in your arms to kiss your head. 

"Mhmm," you respond teasingly. “Do you… want to have sex with me?” you ask, tugging on the front of his shirt and pulling him closer.

“Yes,” he says with a smirk. “Yes, Mrs. Hotchner, I would like to have sex with you. A lot.”

****

Aaron strokes the back of your head while you lie against his chest, stroking his skin methodically, both lazily catching your breaths. Aaron hums something softly, nuzzling his nose into your hair. 

“It’s nice not having to worry about where the kids are,” Aaron murmurs, tracing circles over your shoulder. 

“Yeah. Did we get everything in from the car?”

“That we did.”

“Good. I don’t want to put my clothes back on.”

Aaron laughs--properly, it almost dislodges you from his chest. “I don’t want you to either. I think they look better on the floor.”

“Oh, they absolutely do.”

You think Aaron grins, at least it feels like Aaron grins. He has this way of his chest puffing proudly whenever he grins. 

He gently guides your chin upwards, mouths meeting each other softly. His hands stroking down your back until he's cupping your butt and pulling you up to him.

"Hmm," you hum in protest. "Any more and I don't think I'll be able to walk." 

"We don't have to go anywhere," he says in protest, nipping at your neck. "Nowhere," he breathes into your ear. 

"Aaron," you giggle as he hooks his arms under your knees and sits up. You follow the curve of his muscles with your finger, Aaron sucking a hickey onto your shoulder. 

"You're pretty," he murmurs, a single finger tracing up and down your back slowly. "I want to taste you," he whispers softly. 

God, that gets a reaction. And, sure, you whimper into his shoulder as he continues to kiss your neck and shoulder. 

A thumb, lazily brushing over your lower stomach. Tracing your scars, slipping between the two of you. Fingers lazily stroking at your lips, not giving you any satisfaction or friction that you suddenly, desperately need. 

"Aar," you breathe, grinding down on his hand. God, the way he chuckles and takes his hand away. 

"Asshole," you chuckle and he nips at your breast. 

"I know," he teases. "I know." 

Then he's grabbing you in some sort of magically efficient way and you don't think his mouth has left your body and then suddenly you're sitting on his face, his mouth working wonders on you. 

Lapping, sucking, licking, his fingers making crescent moons on your thighs as you try not to suffocate him, but the hell if he doesn't make it hard. 

"Aar," you breathe, turning more into a squeak-meet-moan as his teeth graze over your clit, soothed quickly over with his tongue.

You clutch at the headboard, grinding against him as you teeter on the edge of losing all thoughts. He hums against you, sucking at your lips.

"Shit, Aaron." 

He's probably smug. He's absolutely smug. He arches up into you, your body trembling. One hand grips the headboard, the other hand splaying against the wall as the familiar feeling gathers in your lower stomach. 

You let out a string of attempted warnings before you orgasm, Aaron coaxing you through it, kitten licking at your clit until you're groaning from overstimulation and trying to pull yourself off him.

There's a hazy acknowledgement that maybe you should do something for Aaron but he's pulling you into his chest, tucking your knees up until you're completely cradled against him.

He licks his lips but it's not enough because you can still taste yourself on him when you kiss him. 

"I need a nap," you confess and you're vaguely aware of Aaron pulling the sheets up over you, then he's wiggling out from under you.

"With you," you correct as his warm body is replaced with the quickly cooling warm imprint of him on the mattress. 

"I'm going to go run the bath," he says softly. "I've got dinner to pick up later." You pout at him and he gives you a quick kiss. "I told you that you didn't have to go anywhere." 

Aaron wakes you from your blessed out nap with soft kisses. He smells like… scented soap and something else. 

"Bath time," he says softly like you're a child. 

The bath water is that perfect temperature that you know it won't get cold any time soon. It's complete bliss as you sink beneath the surface. 

"Catch," Aaron says and he throws you a beige looking ball that starts dissolving in your wet hand.

"Bath bomb," he explains. "Garcia bought the whole store, I swear. That one's… uh… buttercup." 

"Nice." You hold it beneath the surface of the bath water, feeling it disintegrate in your fingers before letting it go.

Aaron slips in the bath behind you, wrapping his legs around you. 

"This bubble is nice to be in," Aaron murmurs into your shoulder, arms floating beside you. 

"Mmm," you hum. "We have to call the kids at 6." 

"I know, Saskia texted me not to forget this morning." 

You smile. You've taught her well. Aaron cups water in his hands and drips it over your body. 

You know he can't help it when he cups your breast. They're tempting enough as it is (you have to admit) and Aaron's as basic as it gets (you also you have to admit) but you still love him. 

He kisses your shoulder, although it's less 'a kiss' and more resting his lips there. 

And you stay like that until your skin goes pruney, and the only thing keeping you from being old, weathered, humans at the end of your lives; is that neither of you are grey..

****

“Uncle Dave’s pool is heated,” Jack’s telling you excitedly. “So sometimes we get to go out after it’s dark. Saskia can do handstands but she’s only just managed to get the water not to go up her nose.”

“It hurts,” Saskia laughs. “Oh, and Jack and I managed to get a whole routine down and now we are almost synchronized swimmers.”

"Are you guys having fun?" Jack asks and you're pretty sure he's squishing his face up against the receiver. 

"We are," you answer for Aaron as he kisses your neck. "We miss you guys, tho."

"Yes we do," Aaron adds, resting his chin on your shoulder. "I'm glad you're having fun at Uncle Dave's." 

"So much fun. Uncle Dave's teaching me how to cook," Saskia says.

"With wine," Jack adds. "But she's not allowed to drink it. Only cook."

"Thank God," Aaron breathes into your ear. "So we're going to have a chef when we get home?"

"Chef in training," Saskia corrects. "But I'll be close to a real chef."

"Her pasta is really good!" 

"It is pretty good," Saskia confirms proudly. "Maybe I'll make it when there's no cases." 

"I’d like that,” Aaron says. “Would you like that?” He presses his face against yours, way too close, but he looks adorable.

“Yes,” you say but it’s too soft and not at all directed towards Saskia. You clear your throat and push Aaron’s face away. He looks far too gleeful. “Yeah, Sas, that sounds really nice.” 

“Ugh, Uncle Dave says we have to go. But we’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah, Sassy, we’ll see you soon.” 

Aaron buries his face into your neck and mumbles something then, “of course you’d see us soon, Sassy.”

“Okay, Jack--Jack! Come say bye!”

Aaron gasps dramatically like he’s offended. “My own son left us?”

“BYE!” Jack yells into the phone. Too loud. Too precious. 

“Bye,” you and Aaron echo. “We love you.”

“Loveyoutoo,” Jack says quickly and then you can hear his little feet running away. 

“I love you most,” Saskia says like it’s a competition. “Okay I really do have to go, Uncle Dave looks like he’s going to explode. He’s too old to be carrying Jack. If he breaks his back--”

Saskia leaves the rest of the sentence unsaid. 

“Go look after Uncle Dave, Sassy,” you laugh softly. “We’ll see you soon. Everything been okay?”

“Yeah,” Sas says. “Although Uncle Dave’s obsessed with funky ice-cream. I just want vanilla, I’m sick of rocky road. I mean, he bought vanilla bean but that’s not vanilla. I just want ice-cream without all the bits in it.”

“I’ll get you ice-cream with no bits when we’re home.”

‘Thanks Mom. I do have to go now, though, before someone gets killed or has a heart attack.”

“Okay, I love you. Sleep well.” 

“You too, Mom.” A pause, Jack calling for Saskia. “And Dad. I really, really do have to go though. Bye!”

“Bye,” you laugh back and then she’s hung up.

“We’re never going to get the kids to sleep ever again,” Aaron sighs. 

“No we are not.”

****

Emily’s bag was mostly forgotten until you were searching through your bag for something and saw it stick out from under the table. Aaron’s gone out to the car to grab something, you can hear him digging through Saskia and Jack’s stuff in the backseat. So you hook a finger over the paper bag and drag it towards you.

Genuine curiosity has you peeking in the top, but whatever’s inside is completely obscured by a bunch of colourful tissue paper. You groan and roll your eyes like Emily’s there to see you, and then you grab the bag and shut yourself in the bathroom.

She’s got a couple of gifts that you’re sure are gag gifts (okay, the literal ball gag definitely was not part of that list, but you’re adding it to it), and there’s a vibrator with a sticky note that says ‘if he doesn’t satisfy you, better do it yourself’. Honest, you want to be mad at her but these are expensive. Garcia had been looking at them in her office a couple of weeks ago, they’re efficiently tiny and you can get them looking like lipsticks. (Garcia bought two, you know this because one looks like her favourite lipstick, and regrets that after a certain meeting).

There’s a collection of gels and lubes, and while there’s not the caramel one Haley had given you as a joke (that was used and abused until the tube was completely dry), there’s a cute collection of tasteful lubes and an arousal gel that has a sticky note that says ‘when it says only a drop, it means only a drop. Pea sized!!’. You’re not sure you needed that much information about Emily… ever.

There’s a pair of vibrating panties with a remote that you are not letting Aaron see. Not for a while. You’re sure he’d take too much pleasure in remote control vibrating panties. Would be worth it, sure, and very satisfying. He’d get that smug look on his face as he sits across the room, in that dumb chair he insists on keeping in your room, his dark eyes on you, probably with his arms locked above his head. 

Still in his suit.

\--Fuck Emily.

Thank-you, Emily, but fuck you. 

Yeah. Those are being saved for a kid free night at home. A good kid free night.

There’s a maids outfit that has ‘for Hotch to wear’ written on a sticky note, even though it’s very much in your size. There’s a couple of wrist restraints that won’t ever be used. You’d both dappled in it, just a little, but Aaron couldn’t bear to see you restrained. Even if you were fine, there was something in the way that Aaron looked at you and treated you that was… well, you’re pretty sure Aaron cried once he managed to calm down enough to loosen the ties. 

You probably should have talked about that. You didn’t. You just held him, told him you were fine. Haven’t revisited that since.

You peel out the very last piece of tissue paper (this piece was green, why, you’ll never know), and beneath it is a perfect, gorgeous, babydoll lace set in your favourite colour. You take it back, God Bless Emily Prentiss. 

You’re quick to put it on (including the panties, although you’re not sure it’ll last all that long) and admire yourself in the bathroom mirror. The entire thing is… sheer, perfect, gorgeous, and just all too cute. 

“H--hello,” Aaron says, his tone immediately changing as he comes into the bathroom. “What’s this?”

“This is from Emily, it was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It is,” Aaron smirks. “It is very much a surprise.” He takes a step forward, hands splayed out like he can’t wait to touch you. “May I?” he says softly.

“Yeah,” you breathe and he closes the gap, hands falling to your body. God he’s so gentle.

Gentle and wanting. He studies you like he’s going to sculpt you. Fingers following your body like he hasn’t already committed you to memory. Those eyes that move from gentle to hungry in the space of a few seconds. 

“You look gorgeous,” he murmurs. 

“And you look overdressed,” you couter, not for the first time, pressing your fingertips to his brown jumper that he’d thrown on to go out to the car. 

“Mmmm, no, this is about you.”

He’s way too possessive when he says it. The good kind of possessive. The kind that has him turning you so your back is pressed against his chest. The way he runs his hands over your body, lingers on your breasts, never quite moves the fabric away from your body.

He bunches the skirt up in his hand, like he’s studying what’s beneath it, then lets it fall down again.

“Why’d you put the panties on?”

“Because they came in a set.” You smile at him in the mirror. He gives this lopsided smile right back at you. 

“It’s a very nice set,” Aaron whispers, kissing your neck. “But these? Really?” He slips a finger in the band and pulls it back, smirking when you jump when he lets it go and it slaps against your skin.

He kisses your spine over the fabric, prying your legs apart with his knee until you’re quite the picture in front of him. He runs a knuckle between your legs, over the fabric, teasing enough that you know how pathetic you look as you grind against his fingers—fingers that so quickly leave you.

You pout at him, only to find him smirking into your shoulder. 

“You said no more,” he murmurs playfully.

“I take it back, I want more,” you whine. He shakes his head, pressing light kisses to your neck. “Do you want to know what Emily gave us?”

He rolls a nipple in his hand and grinds up against you. “Do tell me.”

“Mm, so there’s a vibrator in there because Emily doesn’t think you can satisfy me,” you say with a smirk. Aaron’s brow furrows, but it’s like he’s taking it up as a challenge. 

"That's all?" He asks, his voice grumbling against your neck. 

"No," you say as Aaron sucks at your neck, raising his eyes to look at you in the mirror. "Em sent vibrating panties. They're super cute and lacy." Aaron raises an eyebrow at you. "They have a remote with them. You really could use them anywhere. I was thinking about a night at home--" 

"Home?" Aaron chuckles. "We have an entire world where no one would know and you want to keep it to home?" 

He puts his leg back between your legs, stopping you from squeezing your legs together. 

"Why stop at home when you have the whole world at your fingertips." He nips at your neck. "Could easily have you squirming in the office. Trying to talk to the team." 

"You'd like that," it was supposed to be a question but it comes out more like an accusation. Of course he'd enjoy that. 

"Mhmm," Aaron says, nuzzling your neck. "You have this cute little look you get when you're trying to concentrate. I’m sure it’d be even more adorable if you were concentrating because of something else. There’s nowhere to get off once the team are there, and you can’t get away with closing my blinds. They’d know. But… watching you squirm… knowing I could stop it at any time…”

He brings his knee up, rubbing you against it before he lets his leg drop once more.   
You whimper, hands clutching at the sink. 

“Aaron can you just do something,” you whine. “Something more.”

Aaron looks too smug. He nips at your ear, wrapping you up as tight as possible. A thousand kisses peppered over your shoulder like he’s making sure you’re okay, then he snakes his hands over your body, bunches up the skirt at the front only so he can cup his hand and runs his fingers along your core.

“You might make fun of me,” Aaron says softly. “But I think you liked it too.”

“Just a little,” you breath, eyes fluttering shut. 

“I’ll make a note.”

He sucks on an already formed hickey and circles your clit, grinning into your shoulder when a moan escapes you. 

“Aaron, I need more, please.”

“More?” he teases, putting more pressure on your clit. 

“No, more of you, please.”

“No more?”

“Aaron!” you exclaim the moment he steps away from you. 

“I’m kidding,” he laughs like he’s coddling a child. He turns you gently in his arms, kissing you deeply. 

“While I love you,” you say between kisses, “I really want you to fuck me. Please.”

“Nice manners,” he chuckles, sucking at your bottom lip as he cups your ass and lifts you onto the bathroom bench, hooking his fingers on your panties and pulling them off, discarding them somewhere that… might be the edge of the bath.

You don’t really care because he’s latching back onto you and shedding his pants, kicking them away. Here? Bless him. 

You cup Aaron’s face, pulling him roughly to you. He says something, but you’re not sure what, then he’s sliding you towards him, slipping a finger inside you with no prior warning.

“Shit, Aar,” you gasp against his lips, pressing your forehead to his.

“More?” he whispers.

“Yeah. Yes. Please.”

His finger slips from you, quickly replaced when he slips into you, resting there while he gathers himself.

“You maybe enjoyed it a little too much?” you tease, brushing your fingers over his temples. “You like thinking about me getting off in secret, in front of the team? That’s naughty, Aaron.” You brush your finger under his chin. “Kind of hot, though. Sitting up in your office, pretending that there’s nothing different going on, knowing that with one button I could unravel.” 

“Stop,” Aaron whimpers, closing his eyes. “You’re not going to have any fun if you continue.”

“I’m having the time of my life, Aar, look at you.”

His eyes flicker over your shoulder and you’d completely forgotten the mirror behind you. Honest to God, he smirks. 

“Ready?” he murmurs.

“Yeah, Yes.”

Sure, it’s not the most comfortable sex you’ve had in your life. (But it’s better than the kitchen counter, and that time Aaron fell off the bed and almost cracked his head open on the bedside table). Aaron braces himself against the mirror, grunting and dropping his head to your shoulder when he realises he’s a lot closer than he’s planned. You hate that your first thought is that you really hope they have mirror cleaner because you really don’t want someone to know what you’ve been doing here.

Like no one already knows.

“Shit,” you gasp, throwing your head back as Aaron hits just the right spot. When he starts doing something magic with his body because he knows he won’t last as long as he thinks. 

Aaron cums before you do, but to hell if he doesn’t go the extra level to make sure you follow soon after him.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” you chuckle when you’ve collected your thoughts enough. 

“I can do anything you need,” Aaron says as he kisses you softly, pulling out with a little protest from you. He grabs a wash towel, washes you off softly. “This is a keeper,” he says, rubbing the babydoll fabric between his fingers.

“I noticed,” you chuckle. “And the panties too.”

“Yeah,” Aaron says, his ears heating. “Yeah, we keep those too.”

“Oh, Emily also bought you a maids outfit. I expect you to wear it every day.”

“Sure,” Aaron says with limited hesitation. “Might have to change it to once a week, though, not sure we can sneak in every day with Jack and Saskia around.”

You grin at him, kissing his cheek. “I was joking.”

“I’m not,” Aaron grins, shaking his head. “What do you want to do?”

“Discuss that,” you say, poking his shoulder.

“No, no discussion,” Aaron responds. “My options are cards, sleep, shower. No discussion available.”

“Can I sneak ‘cuddle’ in there as an option?”

Aaron scrunches up his face like he’s considering it.

“Yeah. You can. I like that option.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~in which we learnt a lot about aaron hotchner, apparently. And Emily's fun games.~  
> ~and that saskia does not like "rich-people-ice-cream"~  
> this took me so long to write hahahahahahah i have an exam tomorrow and i wrote smut instead.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a small epilogue, we're ending this fic here, with the wedding over. (There is a new part though! Coming! We're not stopping until we get to the bottom of Scratch I'm so sorry, strap in for a while.)

“Look who’s home,” Jess teases as you and Aaron try to sneak home. 

Of course, when things go so right for so long, something had had to go wrong and the car had broken down. It was hours of messing around on the side of the road, trying to remind Aaron that once he would have been able to fix it in his sleep. Jack and Saskia sounded all too smug about it, but they were both grateful to be back home, in their own beds.

“Hi Jess,” you say softly, guiltily, throwing your bag onto the couch and welcoming her hug.

“The kids are asleep,” she says, more for Aaron’s benefit than yours, because he’s already toed off his shoes and tiptoeing down the hall to duck into Jack’s room.

“You got a good one,” Jess adds, rubbing your back. 

“I know,” you grin as she lets you go. “Do you need to get home? Is Phil expecting you? I know we’ve kept you later than we expected.”

“Oh, no,” Jess says with a small smile. “Turns out, dating math teachers will never work out for me.”

“Amen. Did he let you keep the dogs?”

“Fuck yes. Told him my brother-in-law worked for the FBI.”

You both smirk and Jess kisses your cheek.

“Haley made me keep your wedding present in the back of my cupboard, it was like the first thing she emailed me when they let her email. Three emails and all of them were making sure things would be normal when you all got home.” 

She points to the rectangle box that’s wrapped perfectly, with a pastel blue ribbon, with a smaller box right next to it. 

“I’m sorry it all ended like this,” you say quietly. 

“Hales is still hanging around,” Jess says with a small, sad, smile. “Mom says she won’t be gone until everyone has forgotten her, and I don’t think that’s going to be anytime soon. And I know she’d do it all over again if she saw where you all are now.”

“Shit, yeah. I’m still sorry, though.”

“Tell Aaron I said bye, yeah? I have to go home and feed the dogs.”

“Yeah.” You wait, eyes trained on the present, listening as Jess collects her stuff and heads out the door. “Jess?”

“Yeah Sweetie?” Jess returns, pausing by the door.

“Thank-you.”

“Anytime.”

With Jess gone, and Aaron still checking on the kids, the apartment feels empty. Empty and cold. Even if you saw all the flowers that Saskia and Jack have obviously put around the house (neither you nor Aaron have much use for flower vases all that often, which is very obvious by the fact that there are now roses in mugs next to your TV), it still feels… wrong.

The smaller box has a tag with your name on it, the bigger box with both your names on the tag.

“Who’s this from? I thought all the presents were over,” Aaron says as he fills the kettle and puts it on the stove.

“Hales,” you respond, pulling out a chair and sitting. There’s a quiet ‘oh’ from Aaron and he side eyes the kettle before joining you. “This ones for me,” you say a little posessively, grabbing the smaller box. “You can do the big one.”

Even though you say it, you still sit and watch as Aaron peels the wrapping paper back from the present, slipping his finger under the tape, like he’s trying preserve the wrapping paper. He pops back the lid on the box up, and looks like he’s been transported somewhere heavenly as he runs his fingers over the contents.

“It’s so soft,” he says quietly.

He turns the box to you, exposing an identical blanket on Haley’s bed that you’d commented on all that time ago. The one she wouldn’t tell you where she got it from because it would never survive all of Aaron’s fiddling. You open your own present, frowning slightly.

It’s a little spray bottle, with ‘Aaron Repellent’ written over it in silver permanent marker. You snort, showing it to Aaron, who looks somewhat offended.

“Haley wrote both our names on it.”

“It’s for all your fiddling,” you explain, kissing his cheek. “Hales always said the soft blankets wouldn’t survive around you because you’d just keep fiddling with it.”

“I like the way soft things feel,” he says defensively. 

“I know,” you respond softly, nuzzling his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he responds, and he makes this face that’s all too adorable. “Do you want me to bring your tea in? You can say night to the kids.”

“Mhmm,” you smile, standing and grabbing the blanket box from him. “Sounds like a plan.”

Jack’s starfished across his bed, blankets all tangled up in his limb, with a dinosaur tucked carefully under his arm. His ‘Mom Candle’ is sitting on his bedside table, obviously lit at some point because his room has the faint smell of strawberry. There’s a new picture he’s drawn above his bed, stick figures of you all at the wedding (you only know that because he’s written “weding” at the top, and then he’s got Haley too because she’s got wings and a halo). You grin and make a note to photocopy the family picture present you were gifted.

You kiss Jack’s forehead, smiling when he leans up into it while he’s still sleeping.

“Night Jack,” you murmur with a small smile. 

You tiptoe out of the room, across the corridor to Saskia’s room. 

Immediately you know she’s still awake. As if you needed confirmation, Saskia launches out of bed and wraps her arms around you.

“You’re getting very tall,” you laugh as she almost knocks you off your feet.

“Did you have fun?” she says quickly. “I like being home. Look, octopus.”

“Woah, Sassy,” you chuckle. There is, indeed, an octopus. It’s at the end of her bed, in a deep purple colour. It’s a plushie, of course, but it’s big enough to be a small child. “Where’d that come from?”

She launches herself back into her bed and gathers it into her arms, splaying the tentacles around her. 

“Uncle Dave. Jack got a big dinosaur but Spence is patching it up, Spence accidentally put a hole in it while he was trying to do a magic trick.” 

“You are spoilt,” you comment.

“I know.” She pulls her blankets up to her chin and slides down her bed until she’s lying down. “Can you tuck me in?”

“Yeah, Sassy,” you laugh, smoothing the blankets down over her and kissing her forehead. “Sweet dreams,” you whisper. 

“Sweet dreams,” Saskia echoes.

Aaron’s still making tea as you go to your room, grab out a fresh set of pj’s, and pull the blankets back and add the new one to the ever growing pile. Aaron comes in as you’re discarding your clothes into the clothes basket, clean from the grime of the day.

“How’d you get Sassy to sleep?” Aaron says, putting your tea down and grabbing his pjs. 

“Magic,” you tease. “Thank-you.”

“Yeah,” he responds. “That Octopus is a monster.”

“Sassy says Jack has a dinosaur.”

“Dear Lord,” Aaron says with a snort. “We’re not going to have any room for the kids soon.”

“Might have to get a new place.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but it comes across more like you’re testing the waters. Aaron pauses, scrunches up his face in thought, and nods.

“Yeah, maybe.” He takes a long drink of his tea, then strips and throws his clothes to the basket (somehow getting all of it in), and puts his pj’s on. “When do you want to start looking?”

“Aaron,” you chuckle softly, climbing into bed. “I was joking.”

“I’m not, if you want somewhere else we can get somewhere else. I know you don’t like it, you keep moving the dining table.”

“No, I love this place, I hate thinking about you bleeding out on the floor while I’m eating dinner that’s why I keep moving it.”

“I wouldn’t bleed out while you’re eating dinner,” Aaron says dismissively. “You’d drive me to the hospital.”

“That’s not what I mean,” you say, scrunching your face up at him.

“I know that’s not what you mean,” he responds with a smirk, joining you under the blankets. “But if you want somewhere else, I mean it. We should start looking.”

“You know, with my salary we could easily get a second place. Something small, somewhere no one really knows.”

“Somewhere the kids would like?”

“Yeah. Sassy and Jack loved this place we stayed during…” you trail off, letting Aaron fill in Foyet’s name. “The one where we played soccer, in the video. I think they just liked the garden.”

“So we look for a country house we can leave unoccupied for most of the year?” Aaron offers.

“Close enough for weekends?” you say, batting your eyelashes dramatically. 

Aaron smirks and rolls his eyes, kissing you softly. “Close enough for weekends,” he confirms. “But far enough away work won’t call us in.”

It sounds like a promise if you’ve ever heard one.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper. He nods eagerly. “You’re my favourite human being.”

Aaron gasps playfully. “No way, you’re mine too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay okay okay this is the end of burn the shoes and boil the rice. Honest to god thank you everyone who's still reading, and i hope you're all still enjoying youselves. We have a lot install for the next part (including.... Ellie Spicer and the Valhalla arc.)
> 
> You're all my favourite human beings ~~


End file.
